


Spirit-Witch

by BarnesAndNobleFanpage



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anne probably, Canonical Character Death, Everyone shows up eventually, Gen, Graphic depictions of violence/death, Multi, NaNoWriMo 2020, No funny business going on with the OCs I promise, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possession, They're ghosts what did you expect, Which I may or may not actually finish, Who Gave This Child A Knife??, Witch Julie Molina, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 29,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27397600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarnesAndNobleFanpage/pseuds/BarnesAndNobleFanpage
Summary: As the new moon flies, she awakens with music in her soul, with colors in her eyes. Three beyond to lead her, three beyond to follow. All to banish a spirit, who with Envy souls does swallow. With Hunter’s hands, a Knowing mind, and Wild in her heart, she will rise, when she believes her world torn apart.In which I take two lines and create an entire AU
Relationships: Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Caleb Covington & Willie, Carlos Molina & Julie Molina, Flynn & Julie Molina, Julie Molina & Carrie Wilson, Julie Molina & Julie Molina's Mother, Julie Molina & Original Female Character(s), Julie Molina & Ray Molina, Julie Molina's Mother/Ray Molina
Comments: 32
Kudos: 56





	1. Chokin', Smokin

Caleb Covington had been walking the earth for quite a while. His life, though short, had given him plenty of experience with hardship. He couldn’t remember his parents' faces or their names, and neither could he remember the name they gave him. He had simply been called “boy” or “hey, you.”  _ Caleb Covington _ was the name he had given to himself. He had done whatever he needed to survive and was an accomplished pickpocket by the tender age of eight. And by nine, he had discovered a better way to get money. Close-up magic. Combining his swift, nimble, bone-thin fingers with his need to be  _ seen _ , to  _ perform _ . He learned everything he could. Card tricks, disappearing balls, anything he could learn; he would perform.

Eventually, his shows got quite popular among the tourists on the streets of Las Vegas. One such show, a queerly-dressed man watched through his whole performance. He wore a bright red morning coat, with black and white striped puffy trousers, with lace trimmings similar to a lady’s bloomers. The man also wore large black goggles with silver rims, a top hat with a red ribbon (in the middle of the day!), and long, tall boots. On his face was a well-waxed mustache, hiding small lines around the man’s nose. He introduced himself as Dante Dolgini, though Caleb had doubts that it was his real name. 

“And what’s your name, boy?” Dolgini asked.

“Caleb. Caleb Covington, sir.” Caleb replied, hesitatingly.

“You seem like a smart kid. Where’d you learn those tricks?”

“Um, just around, sir. I try to learn wherever I can.”

“Why don’t you stop by my circus. You could make a lot more than you are right now if you were part of my show,” suggested Dolgini, with a wide grin on his face. 

And so, Caleb found a place performing, traveling, singing, dancing. Dolgini’s was a combination of a traveling circus and a Vaudeville show. Caleb’s “magic boy” act was a sideshow, for entertainment before the  _ real  _ performances. For years of his life, Caleb was on the road, making friends with the showgirls who pinched his cheeks and taught him dances and who were more likely to like what song, an old fortune-teller who taught him the art of misdirection, and most importantly, Dolgini himself. Dolgini treated him like the son he never had, taught him what he needed to know to stay in control of people, to captivate their attention, and give him whatever he wanted. It was, less than moral, so to say, but it was a thorough education. 

Caleb grew into himself with the circus, revealing his beautiful, almost hypnotic singing voice, his creativity, but most importantly, his ruthlessness. He was not above straight-up scamming people for more money. He worked performers to the bone. The shows he put on were more dramatic, with more flashing lights and gaudy costumes. But, he was never the center of the audience’s attention. Caleb craved it, coveted it more than anything. To drink in the applause, to revel in the admiration of men, women, and children. It was never Caleb. It was  _ always _ Dolgini. Caleb was jealous, but he was controlled. 

He could wait. The man was getting on in the years. It wouldn’t be long until the spotlight passed to Caleb. An accident would befall Dolgini, or he would simply grow too old to do the stunts and work the long hours that his circus required. Then the mantle would be Caleb’s. He could practically taste it. 

Then, it happened. Dolgini’s hair was silver, and he had fallen and broken a hip. Stairs were such risky places to be when one’s own muscles could not be trusted. Dolgini had no wife, children, or grandchildren. His entire adult life had been dedicated to performance. He made his announcement to retire on crutches; in front of cheering, tearful crowds. Caleb’s only thought was,  _ “Finally.” _

“Caleb, you’ve been the son I never had all these years. I leave my show in your capable hands. I trust you to make the best of it.”

“I will. When have I ever let you down, Dante?”

Caleb’s first show as ringleader had to be  _ perfect _ . The posters had to be straight, not a sequin out of place on the costumes, the animals on their best behavior.  _ Nothing  _ could ruin his night. A packed house, just outside of Hollywood. Not very far from his hometown of Las Vegas. Caleb’s purple suit was pressed, the swing music that would announce his arrival lively. Not one hair out of place. The show went off without a hitch. 

Until the final act, that is.

Caleb had slowly attached a harness worn under his clothes to hundreds of minuscule cables throughout the performance, and the final trick of the night would be for him to seemingly levitate up into the rafters of the stage.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, for my final act of tonight, I will fly!” Caleb announced to delighted gasps.

As Caleb began to rise, he felt something wrap around his neck. The cable had become entangled with others, and he could not get it unwrapped from his throat. His struggle took place high above the crowd, and from below everything looked fine. So Caleb gasped and thrashed to the delight of the audience. With panic setting in, his breath getting shallower, and black spots dancing in his vision; Caleb acted. He reached above his head and  _ yanked _ . 

SNAP!

And Caleb knew no more of breathing, of touch, of a beating heart.

* * *

As Caleb grew more accustomed to being a ghost,  _ no, not a ghost, a spirit _ , he grew more bitter towards performers.  _ How DARE they flaunt their skill while I never got the chance? _ Then, he met Envy. A demon, a Deadly Sin. To Caleb, Envy looked like a better version of himself; taller, better clothes,  _ alive _ . 

“I can feel your soul. It  _ burns _ with jealousy. Covington, I got an offer that you can’t refuse.” Envy said with a rich voice, a twitch of an eyebrow, and a smirk. 

“What offer?” Caleb asked, curious.

“I can give you whatever you want. Power, money, an audience. All I ask for is souls. They don’t have to be yours, but they need to belong to you.”

“How?”

“Think of it like you’re a lesser demon. Some of the souls you keep for yourself, to do as you please with, but the rest are mine.”

“Deal.”

Envy stuck out his hand for Caleb to shake, and he did. Then, he felt a burning sensation on the inside of his right forearm. An intricate design made of red triangles, an ouroboros, and wings marred his previously smooth skin. 

“What is this?” Caleb cried, rubbing at the mark burned into his arm.

“A reminder, should you forget.”

* * *

As Caleb walked along the streets outside of the Hollywood Ghost Club, he reminisced on the soul he had just had to consume. James was a good worker, but overlooked and easily missed. No one working at the club would notice his absence. 

But now, Caleb had a dilemma. He needed a new waiter. There were new ghosts made every minute, but Caleb preferred to add his own personal touch to the ones he employed. There were certain criteria they had to fill. For starters, all of his club members died young. This meant they had lots of unfinished business, and almost never crossed over. Younger souls were often more vibrant and would please Envy more. Second, they had to be beautiful. No good club had ugly bartenders. Third, and finally, they had to be alone. Easy prey for Envy, and for Caleb. Souls who were lonely, who died alone, were easier to lure into the club, into staying for an eternity. 

Once Caleb had a soul, he held onto it with all his might. He watched as a skateboarder, no older than twenty, said goodbye to a group of friends. As he headed in the opposite direction of the rest of the group, the easygoing smile fell from his face. 

Caleb stepped to get a closer look at the boy. He had long brown hair, floating behind him as he rode. His skin was a rich color, similar to the dark wood of Caleb’s desk. The boy’s  _ eyes _ though were easily the most stunning thing about him. His eyes were brown with flecks of melted gold, the color of the sun as it sets over the sea. 

All boxes checked, Caleb pondered on how to bring the boy over to his side of the veil. The streets were quiet empty at this time of night. A driver simply needed to lose control of their brakes for a terrible accident to occur. 

A large truck, easily a ton or more, came barreling down the side street. Caleb found the brake line and severed it. The truck started to blare it’s horn as it lost control. Jerked out of his thoughts by the noise, horror dawned on the boy’s face as his death approached him at fifty miles per hour. Those beautiful eyes widened and glowed in the headlights. The boy brought his arms up, and Caleb laughed. As if such a trivial thing could stop impending doom! 

Crunch!

The boy’s body first impacted with the grill of the truck. Vertebrae snapped, the skull caved in, and blood adorned the impact site. Then, the body was tossed under the wheels, where the legs and skateboard shattered like plywood. The body was then left, in the middle of the street. A flickering form of a ghost stood over it, transparent fingers passing through the face. Now, Caleb simply had to intercept the ghost before he crossed over. 

“A shame, really. A young life cut so short. Such beautiful eyes.” Caleb said, standing over the body, closing the eyelids one last time, in a pantomime of sleep. 

The boy’s head snapped around, hair flicking, following his movements. 

“Y-you can see me? Am I, am I, dead?” The boy managed to choke out. 

“Unfortunately,” said Caleb. “I know a place where you can re-adjust to the afterlife. If you’ll come with me, please.” Caleb turned and began to walk back to his club.

“Wait!” The boy cried, “Who are you?”

“Call me Mr. Covington. Or Caleb, if you’d prefer that. And your name?” Caleb replied.

“I-I’m Willie.” The boy, or rather, Willie, said.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, William.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited character appearances. Thank you CaptainMikeShellbyMiller for catching that and telling me!


	2. Quiet Wail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poisoned hotdogs. Not exactly the best way to go out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! That's a lotta damage!

As the last notes of  _ Now or Never _ rang through the empty theater, Luke imagined it filled with fans. Cheering, whooping, chanting his name.  _ ”Not just fans, Luke.”  _ whispered a voice that sounded suspiciously like Alex,  _ “VIPs, managers, y’know, people who could kick start our career off of the Santa Monica pier and into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame?”  _ A grin spread across his face. Luke looked over at Reggie, whose blush was rising, red high up on his cheeks.

Luke thus began his pre-show ritual, turning first to Reggie on bass to his right, then to Bobby on guitar to his left, and finally to the back of the stage, where Alex was getting up from behind his drums. After exchanging compliments with each, the four put their instruments down and hopped off the stage with multiple  _ thuds _ of their feet. Luke turned around one last time to admire his banner, the name of his band proudly displayed at  _ The Orpheum _ ! It was one of Luke’s wildest dreams. Luke put his hands on his hips and pondered where he would be in five, ten years. Tonight, this gig would change his life forever.

The sound of Bobby’s falsely-deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts. That was the voice Bobby brought out whenever he was trying to impress a girl. Luke was jealous, it always sounded so  _ natural _ . So, as any good friend would do, Luke would attempt to ruin his chances. 

“So boys, how ‘bout we fuel up before the show? I’m thinkin’ street dogs.” Luke called to his band, swinging an arm around Reggie’s and Bobby’s shoulders. 

“I’m good, Luke,” Bobby replied, brushing him off. To the girl, “Vegetarian. I could never hurt an animal.” 

“You guys were really good.” Said the girl, nodding for emphasis as her curly hair swung around her face. Luke could see why Bobby would try to impress her. She was beautiful. Dark eyes and a beautiful smile and that  _ accent _ . 

“Thank you,” Luke replied, sincerely. He always loved it when people complimented his music. 

“I’ve seen a lot of bands, been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.” Said the girl, her attention now on him instead of Bobby. 

“Hey, that’s what we do this for. I’m Luke, by the way.” Luke practically vibrated at the praise.

“Hi! I’m Reggie!”

“Alex.”

“Bobby.” He elbowed Luke out of his way,  _ I know what you're trying to do, you dick _ , the gesture seemed to say. Luke stuck his finger in Bobby’s ear.

“Nice meeting you guys. I’m Rose.”  _ So that’s her name _ , thought Luke.

“Oh! Here’s our demo,” Reggie jumped in, pulling one out of who-knows-where,  _ he always has those on him _ . “And a t-shirt, size beautiful.” He finished, with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Behind him, Alex rolled his eyes. 

Rose held the shirt up against her chest. It was clearly, much too big for her. “Thanks,” she said, folding it up and putting it over her shoulder. “I’ll make sure not to wipe the tables down with this one.” 

“Oh, good call. Whenever they get wet, they sorta, fall apart in your hands.” Alex trailed off towards the end of his sentence, anxiety choking up his words.

“Don’t you guys have to, go get hot dogs?” Bobby asked, glaring at his friends.  _ “Stop trying to ruin my chances!” _ The look said. Luke’s grin got even wider. 

“Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch.” Luke lied through his teeth. Reggie slapped Bobby as he turned to follow Luke. 

* * *

“That’s what I’m talking about, boys!” Luke exclaimed as he threw open the doors leading to the alleyway behind The Orpheum. Reggie giggled, pulling a few more t-shirts and demos out of his bag.

“The smell of Sunset Boulevard?” Alex sassed.

“No!” Luke shoved at Alex’s shoulders. “It’s what that girl-Rose said in there tonight.” He kicked at a gross smelling puddle that would probably mess up his shoes. “About our music, alright? It’s like an energy, connects us with people.  _ They can feel us when we play _ .” Grabbing his bandmates by their shoulders, Luke said more privately, “I want that connection with  _ everybody _ .” 

“Then we’re gonna need more t-shirts,” said Reggie, launching the other boys into snickers. 

* * *

Later, with a street dog churning in his stomach, Luke turned to Reggie. About to ask him something along the lines of  _ “How do you always have t-shirts on you?” _ Only for the words to freeze in his throat. Reggie was keeled over, clutching his stomach and groaning. 

“Thinkin’ bout going vegetarian like Bobby, huh Reg?” Alex asked him, only partially jokingly. Worry laced his voice as the question was met with wet coughing. “Seriously, Reg, are you alright?”

Luke and Alex could only watch as Reggie unfolded himself with a weak grin, far from his usual full smile. He opened his mouth to speak, only for blood to spill past his lips. A hand shakily reached up to touch his face and came away with a dark red stain. 

Luke felt it next, then Alex. A burning, from deep inside his stomach, all the way up to his throat. The burning sensation was quickly replaced by liquid coming up into his throat.  _ Blood _ . The coughing started, then gasping for air. Alex was crying. 

“‘M sor-” Luke’s final words were cut off by an eruption of blood from his mouth. 

“Help!” Alex screamed, desperately trying to do  _ something _ . “Please! He-” Coughing interrupted his pleas. 

Sirens. 

Blue, red. 

Lights. 

People chattered above him. Every breath was a struggle. Black spots danced in his vision. From what he could see, there were no familiar faces. Just paramedics.

No Reggie. No Luke. 

_ “Please,” _ Alex begged whatever deity was out there.  _ “Please let us be together. I don’t wanna lose them too.” _

A prolonged beep.

And then it was Dark.

“Alex? Reggie?” Luke.

“We’re dead.” Alex’s voice was raspy. “Oh  _ God _ , we’re dead!” Tears began to drip down his face. “Th-there was  _ so much _ we wanted to do, and now we’re-” Alex cut himself off, losing himself to a spiral of anxiety.

* * *

Caleb’s normally serene face twitched slightly. “What,” he hissed, “was  _ that _ !” He couldn’t make sense of what had just occurred. “I go through all the trouble of opening up positions for these three ungrateful teenagers, and they  _ cross over! They cross over! _ ”He roared. 

Sulfuric acid poisoning was so  _ hard _ to do as a ghost! Even for one with more power than most, lots of concentration was needed to put enough of the stuff in  _ hotdogs _ to be effective quickly. 

That bitter, jealous feeling that fueled his power rose like a wave inside his chest. Ungrateful musicians! They got to perform for adoring crowds while he was stuck with crumbs! Had that deal with Envy not given him so much power, he would’ve backed out of it a long time ago. Alas, these kinds of deals are permanent. 

Caleb sighed. “This is exactly why rule number three exists in the first place.” He reminded himself. “Isolate them. Make it seem like they are completely and utterly  _ alone _ .” At least he didn’t have a show tonight, he could buy some time and get new performers before  _ He  _ arrived.  _ He _ was always watching, always wanting more souls. Now, Caleb was down three.

* * *

“Isn’t it almost showtime? Shouldn’t your boys be back by now?” asked Rose. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. “Maybe you should go check on them.”

“Nah,” Bobby waved off her concerns. “They’re probably just messing with me. Reggie’s kinda airheaded, but Luke usually goes along with whatever he says. And Alex is nothing if not a drama queen.” 

“Are you sure? Because the doors will be open at any minute now, and your boys are not here.” Rose arched an eyebrow at him, the ominous feeling returning. 

“You’re probably right, Rose.” Booby sighed. “I gotta go find them.” With that, Bobby started towards the alley behind The Orpheum, where he had last seen his bandmates. 

Bobby heard the sirens and saw the flashing red and blue lights. A small crowd had gathered by the mouth of the alley. Bobby tapped someone on the shoulder. “Hey, what happened?” he shakily asked. 

“I don’t know, man. Something about teenagers and food poisoning. I saw three of them getting wheeled out on stretchers. The dark-haired one looked like he was in pretty bad shape.” The man replied. “Hey, kid, you okay?”

Bobby felt the blood drain from his face.  _ Three. Dark-haired one in bad shape. Reggie? Please, don’t let it be him. _ “W-what did the, uh, others, the others look like? Was one blond, the other brunet? I’m looking for my friends, I-I can’t find them anywhere.” Bobby grabbed the man by the shoulders. “Please. I gotta know.”

“I think so.” Tears welled in Bobby’s eyes. “There’s still some paramedics over there, they probably know more.”

But Bobby wasn't listening anymore. His ears filled with static, and his vision started to blur. His knees gave out and slammed into the pavement, buckling under his body weight. The tears flowed freely. 

Bobby screamed.  _ Not Reggie. Not Alex. Not Luke. Please, please not them. Please let them survive. Please.  _ He backed into a wall and tucked his bleeding knees into his chest. He brought his hand up to scrub at his eyes, 

_ “Get yourself under control, Bobby! It’s probably just food poisoning _ . _ ”  _ A small, quiet voice said.

“ _ There was an  _ ambulance! _ Maybe more than one!”  _ Another, louder voice pointed out.

_ “Please, let my friends be alright.” _

But his pleas went unheard. It was too late for Sunset Curve. Their voices, their spirits snuffed out before they could begin their climb. The only one left to remember was the one left behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read the last chapter, you probably knew this was coming. Yell at me if you want.


	3. Ravens in the Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Coven of the Veil meets. Julie makes her first appearance.

Under the waning crescent moon, the Coven of the Veil gathered. As was tradition, the Caller of the meeting was the first to speak. The forest rang with a voice unheard by the living. 

“Witches of the Coven!” The Caller, a brunette woman with a slit throat, announced. “I Call to you tonight, for I have Seen a prophecy!” 

Prophecy was always important, and with it came change. Whispers started among the assembled, like wind through the trees on a dark night. “So close to the new moon.” “Oh, this oughta be good.” “Can you feel it too?” “Something’s in the air.” “Is it a birth? Or a death?”

“Good spirits of my Coven, Listen, and I will Speak the prophecy.” The Caller began.

“Speak! And we will Listen!” Called the Coven. Then, a rhythm started. Spirits clapped, patted their thighs, and stomped their feet. The sound crescendoed, filling the night air with strikes.

“I must ask of you, when I am finished Speaking, and all have Listened, that we Interpret my words, and make our decision as one family, one Coven. Undivided!” 

“Speak!” cried the Coven.

And so, the Caller Spoke. 

“As the new moon flies, she awakens with music in her soul, with colors in her eyes. Thee beyond to lead her, three beyond to follow. All to banish a spirit, who with Envy souls does swallow. With Hunter’s hands, a Knowing mind, and Wild in her heart, she will rise, when she believes her world torn apart.” 

“Thank you, Caller, Antonia of Venice. You have Spoken, and we shall listen. Any who wish to Interpret her words, step into the moonlight.” said an old woman’s voice from beyond the shadows of the clearing. 

A young woman wearing a white dress stepped into the clearing. “I have Listened, and I will Interpret. The object of the prophecy is living. Or will be soon. I believe she will be born under a new moon, and the prophecy will come to pass during her lifetime.” 

Another woman, also in ceremonial white, but with fine lines around her eyes, emerged into the pale moonlight. “I have also listened and I will also Interpret. The girl will have three mentors, preferably of this Coven, to guide her towards the completion of the prophecy. Three other ghosts will stand behind her as she completes her role in this prophecy.” 

“Her foe will align themself with the Demon, Envy. They will be a soul-snatcher.” An ancient spirit floated, rather than walked forward. Long, black hair and dark skin practically concealed her from view. Her dress provided the contrast needed to see her form in the near-darkness. “I, Rashida the Hunter, offer my services as one of this girl’s mentors. I will sharpen her claws, and see that she is combat-ready to face a demon.”

“I, Caoimhe, the Knowledgeable, also offer myself as this girls mentor. I will provide her with all the things she must know about the Places Beyond.” Said a Druid, tattoos exposed, and red hair flowing freely. 

“Sign me up! I’ve been wanting an apprentice for  _ such _ a long time now. I, Anne of the Wilds, offer to be this girl’s third and final mentor. Under me, she will find wild Majik, she will be untamed.” exclaimed a third, tumbling into the clearing.

“Anne, we need to have a talk about your professionalism,” Rashida said with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry! It was just so  _ stuffy _ ! C’mon, Raz, it’ll be just like old times! Y’know, get the band back together and raise a kid while we’re at it.” Anne replied, still sprawled on the grass of the clearing. Rashida sent a small smile towards Anne.

“Mothers of the Coven, what say you?” Asked Caoimhe, after rolling her eyes at Anne’s antics.

“We Hear your Interpretations. And we agree. Hunter, Knowledgeable, Wild One. You are to find this girl and protect her until she is ready to face a soul-snatcher.”

* * *

Julia Dahlia Molina was born to Rose and Raymond Molina on September 14th, 2004. Under a new moon. A time of change, of renewal. As soon as she took her first breath, a beacon of Majik erupted from her. So bright, every Coven felt her.  _ I’m here! _ It seemed to say,  _ I’m gonna change the world! _ By the time of her birth almost every Coven had heard the prophecy of a new-moon child who would defeat a Soul-Snatcher. 

Most were glad. One was not. Caleb Covington, of the Hollywood Ghost Club, was worried. A child born tonight would defeat him, sever his deal with Envy, and condemn him to millennium of torture at the hands of the souls he had given to Envy. He had to stop it. But barely five seconds after the beacon had lit, it vanished.  _ That takes care of that _ . He thought. And then he banished the prophecy, and the child, from his thoughts.

Meanwhile, three spirits stood over an asleep woman, holding a newborn girl in her arms. Both were exhausted from labor. The girl already had dark curls of hair sprouting from her skull and was quite large for an infant.

“Julia Dahlia Molina. A beautiful name for a spirit-witch,” said Caoimhe, pulling steel from her braids to fashion into a protective charm. 

“Indeed,” added Rashida. “We must disguise her soul. The soul-snatcher will already be looking for her.” 

The three placed their index fingers against the forehead of the child and chanted. “You are Coven,” they said, “We claim you as our own, we will protect you, teach you, love you.” The beacon faded from the child’s skin, and markings like black lace appeared over her face. As the three removed their fingers, the markings faded. 

“This charm, made from Roman steel, imbued with our Majik, will keep you safe until you are ready to face your destiny,” said Caoimhe, wrapping the length of cord around Julie’s wrist. It tightened to fit snugly on her baby wrist, then vanished.

Spectral fingers brushed over the hair of the mother. “When you cannot be there for her, we will. We will protect your daughter. I give my promise, as one who could not protect her own children.” whispered Rashida, knowingly. 

“Oh. My. Goodness! You, madam, are the cutest baby I’ve ever seen! And I had five siblings!” Anne squealed. “I want to touch her, is that something we’re allowed to do?”

“That reminds me! Anne, did you ever track down your family in the Beyond?” Caoimhe asked. 

“No luck on that front. However, I did meet this cool dude from the early 20th century. Jazz age, I think. Asked me to see if his son was still hanging around on Earth.”

“You probably shouldn’t, Anne. Children this young are quite fragile. Also, why are you using modern slang? You’ve been dead for five hundred years.” Rashida interjected. “And besides, you only think she’s cute because you haven’t had to take care of her like you did with  _ your _ five siblings.”

“You know what Raz? You’re absolutely right. Besides, you gotta change with the times!”

“Nevertheless, we need to open her Eye. We cannot instruct what cannot see us.” Caoimhe touched the palm of her hand to Julia’s forehead, and her robes began to swirl, her tattoos began to glow. “With my Eye, I open yours. See us, young one.” 

Rose startled awake at the display of Caoimhe’s Majik. She was only partially lucid, but protective instincts kicked in. She jerked her child back. The connection severed abruptly, Caoimhe’s spell worked more than expected. The girl could not only see spirits but the auras around people. 

“Well. That was unexpected.” 

“Who are you? Why are you here?” Rose exclaimed. 

“Uhhh…” The three replied eloquently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I love Anne? Ask and I'll gush about my girls' backstories. Also, Caoimhe is pronounced like Key-vah. Might want to go back and reread.


	4. Growing Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young witch discovers some powers  
> (Some swearing in this chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chanting* Baby Julie baby Julie baby Julie  
> *looks at my NaNoWriMo plans* so we're gonna prolong that to about....forever. I'm a slow writer. Sorry.

“How long is she going to stay like this?” asked Caoimhe.

“Like what?” Anne replied.

“ _ Small!” _ Caoimhe cried out, “She’s just so  _ tiny _ , are you sure  _ this _ is the one the prophecy spoke of?” Caoimhe gestured toward Julie, laying in her crib, watching the two argue.

“Do you  _ not _ know how children work?”

“I do! I just didn’t realize it took so  _ long _ !”

“She’s nearly a year old, she’ll be walking soon.”

“She will?” Caoimhe asked, alarmed. “Fuck. I need to hide the knives.”

“I thought being the  _ Knowledgeable _ you’d know more than someone  _ four times _ younger than you!” Anne called after her, “And don’t say fuck around the child! We don’t need you corrupting her!”

“Fuck you too, Anne!”

“F-fuck!” Julie giggled.

“No! No, no, no no no, don’t say that, Julie!” Anne exclaimed, “Oh, I’m going to  _ kill her _ !”

“Fuck!”

“No!”

“What is going on here?” Rashida snapped, as she phased into the room.

“I can explain!” Anne defended herself.

“Anne,” Rashida said, massaging her temples, “Are you teaching the child we have sworn to protect  _ curse words _ ?”

“It wasn’t me!” Anne held her hands palms up, as Caoimhe popped into the room.

“Alright, knives have been hidden!” ”It was her!” They said at the same time, Anne pointing accusingly at Caoimhe.

Later, Rose and Ray would have the same argument about who taught their 10-month-old to swear. Ray believed that Rose taught her that, as the punk woman swore like a sailor in some of her songs. Rose believed that Ray taught Julie those words, as she never swore around the impressionable infant.

Caoimhe stood in the background, watching the verbal sparring and vague threats to whoever taught Julie to curse. Her already-pale face grew paler with every minute, her freckles bright red against paper skin. She vowed that she would  _ never _ tell them of her part in it.

* * *

When Julie was almost three and a half, she told something to her mother. “Mamá, why don’t the ladies help you?” She asked from her chair.

“¿Qué? Mija, what are talking about?” Rose replied from the table, pouring over a piece of sheet music.

“The ladies that  _ siempre _ is with me,” Julie replied, frustrated that her mom didn’t know what she was talking about.

“ _ Are,  _ Julie, if there’s more than one lady, use  _ are _ , not  _ is _ .” Rose corrected, looking up from her music. 

Julie sighed, then repeated, “The ladies that siempre  _ are _ with me.”

“They might just be there to help  _ you _ , Mija.”

“Oh. Are you?” Julie said, looking towards the other wall.

“Yes, little new moon.” The one with dark skin said, “We are here to help you.”

“But your mama doesn’t need us, so she can’t see us,” said the one with green eyes.

“Okay!” Julie said in understanding. Then, she went back to watching her mom’s fingers as they danced over the small piano in the living room. 

_ "Imaginary friends," _ thought Rose, " _ cute _ ."

* * *

When Rose and Trevor’s daughters are old enough to be properly introduced, Julie immediately latches on to Caroline, or Carrie, as she will soon be called. In their first meeting, when they are both three, Trevor places his daughter down carefully in the playpen with Julie and watches them for the next half hour. 

Julie, as soon as she sets her eyes on Carrie, says “Pretty colors! Imma your friend now.” 

Carrie, cool as ever, says, “I’m Carrie. We are now friends” 

“Oh, right! I’m Julie!”

“Julie, do you like Carrie’s dress?” Asked Rose. To Trevor, she asked, “Where’d you get that?” 

“Oh, at-” Trevor began, before being interrupted by Julie.

“No, her  _ colors _ ! They’re all black an’ pink an’  _ smooth _ .” She said. 

“But, Mija, Carrie isn’t wearing black.” Said Rose, twitching her face to the side in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“ _ Everyone’s _ got colors, like, Mamá, yours are um, red an’ purple, and they go all bright and spinny when you sing. Mister Carrie’s Dad, yours are all grey and spiky. Don’t like those. Too prickly.”

“You might be seeing auras, Julie,” Trevor said, “Do they seem to change with people's emotions? If they feel happy or sad, they flare or flop?” 

“Finally! An adult who listens! Thank you, Trevor!” exclaimed Anne from her spot sitting on the table. 

“Julie, do you see what Trevor described?” Asked Caoimhe, twisting a red braid around two fingers. 

“It’s sorta like that, some colors change,” said Julie, her eyes darting around the adults in the room.

“Y’know with all  _ your _ spiritual sh- _ shtick _ , I would’ve thought you would raise the spiritually inclined kid,” Rose said to Trevor, trailing off into a giggle.

“We’re all talented in our own ways, Carrie is shaping up to be a great singer/dancer act.”

Carrie, feeling a bit left out, said loudly, “Julie, you are weird. Wanna play legos?”

* * *

When Julie turned four, she invited Carrie, and Flynn, a girl who the two had met in pre-K, to her birthday party. Carrie had gotten her a craft-making kit, and Flynn had given her an absolutely  _ enormous _ pack of markers to doodle with. After Carrie and Flynn left, and all the plates had been gathered up, Julie went upstairs to her room. When she got there, Rashida was leaning on the wall, Caoimhe was sitting on a chair, and Anne was criss-cross on Julie’s bed. 

“Happy birthday, little new moon,” rumbled Rashida, moving forward to give Julie an air-hug. Julie gladly returned it, her arms barely brushing against the bleached linen of Rashida’s tunic.

“So, where’s my presents?” Julie questioned them. She broke the air-hug and put her hands on her hips.

“Our gift to you is this,” Caoimhe said, rising from the chair to kneel in front of Julie. She held out one tattooed palm, and in a small burst of light, a pencil appeared. 

“That’s it? A  _ pencil _ !” Julie pouted.

“No, Julie, I’m going to show you how I made the pencil appear. It’s called Manifestation.” Caoimhe said with a smile. “Why don’t you go hop up on your bed, and then I’ll teach you.” She drew up to her full height as Julie ran and launched herself onto her bed.

“Mija? Is everything bien aqui? I thought I heard you talking to someone.” Rose opened her daughter’s door and walked in. All three ghosts froze, despite not being visible to the woman.

“Well, I wanted to know what Caoimhe’s birthday present for me was,” Julie answered sincerely. 

“Oh, really? Y what was it?” Rose asked, amused at her child’s vivid imagination.

“Jus’ a pencil. She wanted to show me something  _ cool _ , but you can’t be in here.” Julie said. “Oh! An’ I wanted to use Carrie’s present.”

“Would you like me to help you?”

“I think I got it!”

“Okay, Mija. I'll be back in,” Rose glanced up at the clock. 6:45. “An hour to tuck you in, entiendes?”

“Sí, Mama.” Julie nodded, her curly hair flicking back and forth with the movement.

“Feliz Cumpleaños, Julie.”

“Gracias, Mamá.” 

And Rose shut the door. Julie turned back around to face Caoimhe, her face alight with glee. “Tell me, tell me, please!” Caoimhe sat down on the bedspread, folded her legs, and placed her hands palm-up in her lap. Julie mimicked her posture but was unable to hide her bounce of joy. 

“Manifestation is a form of Majik that requires both focus and imagination,” Caoimhe began, “Take a look at the pencil in front of you. Get all the details you can from it,  _ without _ touching it or picking it up.” Julie drew her hand back from where she had been reaching to touch it. Caoimhe waited for a minute while Julie stared down at the pencil. “Do you have everything you need?” Julie nodded. “Good. Now, I want you to close your eyes and picture the pencil in your Mind’s Eye. Once you have it, imagine it in your hands.” 

With a  _ pop! _ the pencil disappeared from the bedspread and reappeared in Julie’s open palms. The three ghosts cheered. “You’re a natural, Julie!” Anne rocked back and forth from her position by the edge of the bed. “Well done, little new moon, I am proud of you.” Rashida also moved, but to pick up the pencil. “Now, close your eyes. I am going to hide the pencil somewhere where you cannot see it. You must try to summon it back into your hands.” 

Julie closed her eyes, and Rashida placed the pencil carefully in a drawer of Julie’s nightstand. Julie squeezed her eyes shut, and after about thirty seconds of concentration, the pencil was back in Julie’s hand. 

The rest of the hour was spent hiding different small objects around the room, and then the house, for Julie to Manifest. Each success was met with cheers, but Julie grew tired quickly. So, she brushed her teeth and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was getting super long, So I've decided to split this into a two-parter. How did I do? Advice on writing bilingual characters and kids for future me?  
> A chunk of this story is shaping up to be pre-cannon, we've got a couple of chapters until we hit the show timeline.  
> Comment, please!  
> Also, listen to The Crane Wives. Excellent, witchy, Murderfolk music. I recommend Foxlore.


	5. Devil-Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie grows and learns some more about spirits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I want to write a training montage", I say, having no clue how to do so.

“Okay! So, it’s my turn to teach you some tricks.” Anne said to Julie several months later. “This is similar to Manifestation, but instead of bringing objects to you, you send  _ yourself _ to different places. It’s called teleportation.” Anne demonstrated by taking a step forward, disappearing, and then reappearing behind Julie. “Over here, kid.”

Julie’s eyes went wide. “Tell me how! I wanna teleport!” She rocked back and forth on her heels, excited at being able to learn more Majik.

“Alright, so. Teleportation is like Manifestation, but it is going to be harder. Ghosts are better at it than humans because we don’t need to move our physical bodies along with our souls.” Anne said, coming down from her usual levitation to be at Julie’s eye-level.

“What’s  _ physical _ mean?” Julie asked.

Anne’s brow furrowed, “It’s like, bones and meat and blood and stuff. Stuff that keeps you alive. Ghosts don’t have that.”

“Okay, thank you! Tell me how to teleport.”

“If you will turn your attention to the two Xs on the floor, these are gonna be where we start out. Step onto one, and close your eyes.” Julie stepped onto the X closest to the door, and eyed the one near the bed, before shutting her eyes.

“Now, find what you feel when you Manifest something. Usually, it’s in your palms, yeah?” Julie nodded. “Try to wrap that feeling around your whole body. Then, see yourself in your mind’s eye standing where you want to teleport. Hold it there for a few seconds, until you feel it in your soul  _ and _ your body. Make sure it’s around both. Got it?” Julie, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, jerked her head. 

“Take a deep breath, stepping forward when you breathe in, keeping your mind on your target and your Majik securely wrapped around you. On your out-breath, put your foot down and release the Majik.” Anne finished. “Think you could try it?”

A pause, and then Julie blipped out as she stepped forwards, and her foot came down on the other X. Julie wobbled a bit, and then stood upright. 

“Are you feeling okay Julie? Drained? Dizzy? Come on, let’s get you a snack before we try again.” Anne rushed to Julie’s position and took her small hand by the wrist. 

“Woah. My head feels weird. And I’m hungry,” Julie put her other hand to her forehead, “Snacktime.”

“Let’s be extra careful on the stairs, okay? Don’t want you to fall over.” Said Anne, anxiously tugging at the sleeve of her red kirtle as she walked alongside Julie, making sure she didn’t fall.

“Snacks,” Julie stated as she gripped the railing’s bars with one hand and Anne’s with the other.

“Alright, kid.”

* * *

Over the next two years, Julie was slowly introduced to more Majik. Telekinesis, healing small injuries, and elemental Majik. But, her most important lessons waited until she was seven, and was believed mature enough to handle the techniques. Astral Projection, and Lightning Creation. The skills fill her with pride to have; they were high-level techniques that would prove invaluable in the years to come. 

Such mastery needed practice, and the first time she projected, a crisis was only narrowly averted. Instead of untying the bonds that confined her soul to her body, she snapped nearly all of them. The last thing she remembered before passing out was being shoved back into her body. She woke up three hours later with blood trickling from her nose and five worried faces standing over her. She didn’t attempt to project again for another two months, once the bonds had returned mostly to normal. 

Anne was very careful with her the next time she tried, guilt clear on her spectral face. “Only project for a few minutes, then come back into your body. Be sure to _ untie _ , not just snap the tethers. That is  _ very _ dangerous for humans.” Anne stressed. “Do you remember the instructions?” 

“Detach from the world, stop hearing, seeing, feeling with your body. Unhook and untie your tethers, leaving all except one of ‘em behind.” Julie said, settling cross-legged on her floor in a meditative position. Anne mirrored her.

“Now, remember when you project, you will be invisible, and you will not be able to touch anything. We’re just gonna take it slow. Caoimhe and Raz will be watching your body, and I’ll be with your soul. We’re going no longer than ten minutes, and no further than the house. Once we practice more, we can combine this with manifestation and teleportation. Always make sure you can feel your tether. Ready?” Anne looked Julie in the eyes, deadly serious.

Julie shut her eyes and tried to drown out the noise outside with white noise and deep breaths. Slowly, she felt the first tether loosen. Without moving a muscle, she reached for it and untied it from the base of her neck. She felt the weight settle on her soul, where it would remain for the time being. Some tethers felt different than others. The ones around her neck and spine were knotted, and the hardest to detach from. By her joints, the tethers felt like hooks. Those were detached second but were the easiest. Around her ankles and wrists, the tethers felt like cords twisted into shape on her skin. She left the tether on her left wrist alone, and after the others were detached, she stepped out of her body. To her, projecting felt like jumping into a pool before coming up for air. At first, everything was muffled and blurred, before it  _ snap _ ped into sharp focus.

Julie gave a tug at her left wrist.

Her body twitched.

* * *

Rashida was the one to teach her lightning creation. Granted, Rashida had also gifted her an ornamental dagger for her seventh birthday. This had caused several arguments between her and Anne. Anne was of the firm belief that “ _ Children should not be given deadly weapons, Rashida! _ ” Rashida argued that Julie should be able to defend herself as “ _ We won’t always be around to protect her, Anne. _ ” It was expected that Rashida would be the one to teach Julie the deadlier side of Majik. She used it often, for as Hunter she disposed of nastier spirits, sometimes needing the purifying energy of lightning to vanquish her foes. 

Under bright moonlight, Rashida took Julie further than the girl had teleported before. To a clearing in an ancient forest, where the grass glowed silver in the waxing moon’s light. “This, little new moon,” Rashida waved an arm, “is a very special place. Can you feel its power?” They both looked up to the moon and felt it wash over them like waves on the beach. “This is where the Mothers of Majik first met, where they combined parts of their souls into the first Coven.  _ Our _ Coven, if you’ll have it.”

“I feel, I feel so much stronger,” Julie whispered, barely louder than a breath. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Imagine how it feels on a full moon, at the height of the Mothers’ power.” Rashida turned toward Julie, “This is the best place for you to learn lightning. If you can control your lightning in the most Majik-soaked place on Earth, you can control it anywhere.” 

“Lightning can come from charges jumping from positive to negative, but most commonly, from negative to positive. I am going to teach you Positive Lightning.”

“Why? Shouldn't I learn both?” Julie asked, confused.

“Positive Lightning is more accurate and powerful than Negative Lightning. It is born from love and the desire to protect a person or thing from harm. Negative Lightning relies on fear, hatred, and anger. It will hit whatever it can, not just the target of the lightning.” 

“Right,” Julie said, turning her eyes away from the moon and back to Rashida. “Can you show me? So I can copy you?” 

“Of course, little new moon.” Rashida moved to stand parallel to Julie and pointed two fingers on each hand. She moved her whole body in slow, circular motions, rocking side to side, while her hands traced circles in the air. She let the golden light dance between her fingers, crackling on the jeweled cuffs on her black-braided hair. Then, Rashida tucked her hands to her chest, turned away from Julie, and shot the energy towards a raised stone platform in the center of the clearing.

When it was Julie’s turn to try, she thought of her parents as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, of Carrie and Flynn as she circled her arms, and of her baby brother Carlos as she turned and aimed. The blast hit one stone dead-center, and it exploded with the force of Julie’s lightning. 

“Exhilarating, yes?” Rashida asked, rising up from where she was crouching to inspect the stone that Julie had  _ shattered _ . “Repeat after me:  _ lightning is a last resort. _ ”

“Lightning is a last resort,” Julie repeated.

“Do you feel up to a few more tries, or do you want to go back home?”

“I wanna try again.” Julie’s eyes were blown wide, spare sparks still jumping in her hair, making it stand up on end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it? Have questions? Catch an error? Leave a comment, please!  
> The kirtle Anne wears in this story is from the 16th century, and honestly? I think it's a fit.  
> Guess I lied in the tags, Rashida gave the child a knife


	6. Silent Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose Reyes-Molina, Sister, Mother, Wife, Rockstar. May she find eternal peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've got tissues and water ready, because you might just cry. I did, and I wrote this!

When Julie was thirteen, Rose was diagnosed. Breast cancer. The doctors caught it early enough for most patients, but Rose’s would. Not. Stop. Coming. Back. Time after time, draining her body of energy and hair from chemo drugs, draining her home of noise and music. Most of the time, Rose was too tired to play the piano or sing, sometimes too weak to even walk to the garage. 

When her hair started to fall out in clumps, her husband and son shaved their heads in solidarity. Julie refused to touch the razor. Instead, Julie found fabric and made three headscarves. One was the color of Rose’s hair, coal-black, soft and shiny. Another was a pale lavender color, embroidered with royal-purple dahlia flowers. The third was a dark red, and had the outline of white roses stitched across the fabric. The first she kept for herself, the second she gave to Tía Victoria, and the third she gave to her Mamá. All three shed small tears at the present. 

Julie spent hours up in her room, talking to people who couldn’t be seen. She threw herself into Majik, devouring books of the history of witchcraft and even necromancy. Cancer was too advanced for her healing skills. So, she needed to know  _ more _ . She pricked her fingers open on amulets, sacrificed sleep for sparks in her hair. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse from chanting and screaming and crying and shouting. 

Flynn and Carrie barely saw Julie, she hid and slipped past their view. They got worried. Julie’s eyes had deep bruises under them, she was always wrapped in bandages, and she barely spoke. They talked to their counselor. Their counselor talked to Julie about “healthy outlets” for her stress. Julie screamed at her.

“My mother is  _ dying of cancer _ ! Of course I’m fucking stressed!”

The counselor just looked at her with faux-knowing eyes. Julie hated every second of it. She turned on her heel and left, three specters trailing behind her. 

“Kid, this isn’t healthy. You  _ need  _ to sleep!” Anne exclaimed one midnight.

“What do you know about  _ health _ ?” Julie scoffed. “You’re  _ dead _ !”

“I know that some women were deprived of sleep in order to pull confessions of witchcraft out of them. You might start hallucinating.” Anne replied, quietly, rubbing one hand along her charred calf.

Julie went to sleep, but not without nightmares of paper-thin skin and a flatlining heart monitor. She  _ hated _ hospitals.

* * *

Rose knew she was on her way out. She could barely hold her eyes open, and her breath rasped, each rise of her chest a struggle through the build-up in her throat. Her hands and legs prickled, small jolts of pain keeping her from sleep. Rose was so, so tired. She watched the beeping heart monitor. Up, down. Up, down. Until she slipped into sweet unconsciousness. Darkness. A woman, no, a girl’s voice, singing softly. 

“ _ -Moonlit gaze now _ ” The voice sang.

“ _ I know she’s never late, still, anxiously I wait. Patient is the night _ ” It was soothing, almost. The song sounded like a lullaby. The singing turned to whistling. Then, she repeated the last two lines

“ _ I know she’s never late, still, anxiously I wait. Patient, is the night. _ ”

Rose opened her eyes to see a girl, no older than eighteen, sitting in one of the visitor’s chairs. She had most definitely  _ not _ been in the room when Rose closed her eyes. She wore a red-and-white dress, and had no shoes. What Rose could see of her legs were dark and burned, some areas lighter, red and pink. The girl stood, held out her hand, and smiled. 

“Hello, Rose Molina. It is a pleasure to see you again.” The girl said, still quiet. “Though I wish it were not so soon.”

Rose raised a hand-no longer shaking, no longer blotchy-and took it. “Who are you?” Rose asked of the girl, “What do you mean by  _ again _ ?” 

“My name is Anne. You saw me once, when your daughter was newly born.” Anne replied. She lifted Rose out of the paper-thin hospital sheets. Rose heard a prolonged beeping from behind her, and whipped around. Her hair obscured her vision for a second, but, there it was. Her body, motionless.

Rose gasped as the realization dawned on her. “Am I...dead?” She reached out to touch her face, but Anne jerked her back.

“Please look away. Seeing one’s own body is not something I would wish upon my worst enemy.” Rose turned back and studied Anne more closely. A flash of a memory came to her, Anne’s face morphing from joy to confusion. 

“You...you were in the room when I first had Julie!” She exclaimed.

Anne lifted one hand to rub beneath her ragged hair, and replied, “Well, after. You remember that? We thought you had forgotten.” Anne giggled nervously.

“Why? Why were you there?”

“Julie. She is a child of prophecy. My Coven sent us to protect her, and to train her.” 

“Who is this  _ we _ .” Rose hissed.

“The other two ladies? Oh, they’re also helping me train Julie. They’re probably with her now.”

_ Julie _ .  _ Ray. Carlos. Victoria _ “I’m going to see my family.” Rose said, firmly. 

* * *

Then, she found herself in her home.

All the lights were off, and the house was silent, save for the barely-there hum of electricity and breathing. The clock on the oven glowed green, 15 minutes past 3 AM. Silent steps brushed up the stairs, where the living Molinas rested, unaware of the tragedy soon to wake them. 

Ray tossed in his sleep, silently crying. Rose cupped his warm face in cold hands. She kissed away his tears, his temple, and his lips. “ _ Mi Amado, por favor, no lloras por mi. Te quiero, siempre.”  _ She whispered in his unhearing ear.

Next was Victoria, who had taken up near-permanent residence in the guest bedroom. She curled away from the door, a lavender headscarf clutched in her hands. Rose pulled her hair back from her face, and started to braid it. “ _ Hermanita, te amo. Nunca olvidalo. _ ” She finished the braid with an elastic, and tied the headscarf around it. She then rested her face barely an inch away from Victoria’s, studying the face of her younger sister.

Carlos. Her baby boy. He had gotten so big over the past two years. She had barely noticed. “ _ Carlitos, _ ” she said, “Please, talk to your  _ papa _ and  _ tia _ . Let them hold you. I’m sorry you have to bear this so young.  _ Te amo. _ ” She brushed his growing-back bangs off his forehead, and kissed him right where she always did after she said goodnight, even though Carlos protested every time.

Finally, she walked into Julie’s room. But, not just Julie was inside. A young woman, with dark skin, leaned against the door. Another, with red hair, sat at the foot of Julie’s bed. They looked at each other, looked at Rose, nodded, and left the room silently. 

“Oh,  _ Mija _ . I want you to know, don’t give up. You have such an amazing gift. Please, share it with the world for me. I’ll be watching over you.  _ Te amo _ .” Rose wrapped her arms around Julie, only for them to pass through her body. Rose wanted to pull her whole family close to her, wrap them in warmth before she had to go. 

“ _ Mama _ ?” Julie said, still half asleep.

“Rest,  _ mija _ .  _ Te amo mucho _ .” Rose whispered.

Then, Rose found the two women, plus Anne, sitting together outside of Julie’s doorway. Anne held their hands, and the two other women leaned their heads against her shoulders. Rose squared her shoulders.

“You three have been here for a long time, yes?” The three nodded as they rose to their feet. 

“Ever since Julie was born, we have watched over her.” Said the dark-skinned one, whom she did not know the name of.

“Extend that watch to my whole family. Guide them towards each other. They will need the support.” Tears fell freely from her eyes. Rose started to feel like she was breaking apart, dissolving. 

“We will. We gave our word once, and we’re not about to break it now.” She looked determined, face set.

“Do you want us to stay while you cross over?” Anne asked, softly.

“I-I would like that.” Rose turned her face towards the ceiling, letting her tears run down her cheeks without stopping. She felt an arm across her shoulders, hands on hers. She took comfort in women she barely knew, and took one last look at her house. Then, her soul dissolved into purple and red, blown up and away by a breeze unfelt by the living. Silence followed.

Then, a phone rang, shattering the peace forevermore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Anne sings is "Patient is the Night" from OTGW  
> Spanish phrases Rose uses: (To Ray) "My beloved, please, don't cry for me. I love you, always." (To Victoria) "Little sister, I love you. Never forget that."  
> Yell at me in the comments, or answer these two questions:  
> How does Sunday sound for weekly updates? AND Would you like to have snippets of scenes or dialogue to theorize about the week prior?  
> Let me know what you think!


	7. Long Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it flies, sometimes it drags, but time moves on and people move with it.  
> The year after Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a few things  
> Trigger warning: Blood mentioned (nosebleeds), scarring (non-graphic), panic attacks (starts at "The first note on the keyboard struck like a discordant flash of lightning" and ends at "You okay to talk, Jules?")  
> This is my longest chapter, like, ever.  
> Hope y'all enjoy!  
> *Shoves this chapter into your arms and runs off into the night*

After Rose’s passing, Julie was blank. She was numb, all the time. Her face was carved from rock. She was not angry, or sad, or confused; just blank. She stayed in her room, not even coming out to eat. Rashida, Caoimhe, and Anne brought food and water up to her every so often. After an incident involving quite a bit of blood (not hers) Ray had demanded her door stay unlocked. She didn’t say a word during the whole exchange, she stood as still as stone, barely moving to breathe. When he left, she slammed the door behind him. Then, she slumped against it, held her face in her hands, and shook silently. Anne took away her knives. Julie could reach them if she really wanted to, but it was the principle of things.

When Julie finally stepped foot out of her room, for the first time in two weeks, she was surprised to see the house filled with people.  _ Oh. Mamá’s wake was today. She  _ _ knows _ _ knew a lot of people.  _ Julie went back towards her room. She wasn’t  _ at all _ ready to face all of those people, offering worthless condolences. Julie watched from the stairs, fiddling with a coal-black headscarf. Flynn found her. She offered a hug to her best friend, and they sat together, shielding each other from the pain. Julie put her head on Flynn’s shoulder, and Flynn ran her hand through Julie’s hair. 

“Hey, isn’t that Carrie?”

Julie said nothing.

“Wonder where her parents are-oh, there’s Mr. Wilson. Dunno where Carrie’s mom is though. Guess the divorce went through.”

Carrie caught sight of the two and made her way up the steps to sit on Julie’s other side and sling an arm around her waist. “Hey, Jules. I’m sorry.” She breathed, looking into her blank eyes.

Julie said nothing.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Carrie quipped, trying to get a laugh-or at least a change of expression-out of Julie. Silence followed her.

So the three sat in silence, together.

* * *

Slowly, Julie started to be seen more and more outside her room. Carlos would see her in the kitchen, munching on a granola bar absentmindedly, tapping out patterns on the counter. Ray found her asleep in the living room, curled up in the sun like a cat. It reminded him so much of Rose it hurt. Victoria noticed her in the hallway, staring into the mirror as she braided- _ were those wires? _ \- things into her hair. 

Still, it was silent. Julie made no noise. No words, no footsteps, no laughter or sobs.

Until one night, when Victoria had made dinner and was adamant about the three Molinas eating it. “I will  _ not _ let my family survive on leftover pasta and takeout pizza!” She said, smiling and loading up Julie’s plate. “And  _ Mija _ , you’ve gotten-”

“Don’t call me that,” Julie mumbled, voice soft from disuse. 

“ _ ¿Que, Mija? _ ” Victoria asked.

“Don’t call me that!” Julie’s voice cracked as she yelled, “That’s _Mamá’s_ nickname for me! You aren’t her! _You_ _can’t use it!_ ” Julie slammed her hands on the table, and the silverware shook. “Don’t try to replace her, ‘cause you can’t!” Julie stood up, and to her dad, said, “I’m not hungry anymore. I’m going to my room.” Then she left.

Victoria was speechless. She didn’t even notice that she was using her sister’s nickname for Julie. Ray and Carlos looked similarly stunned. Ray’s jaw was dropped, and Carlos’s eyes were wider than she had ever seen them. 

“I should go apologize to Julie. Ray, Carlos, you two keep eating, okay?” She said, getting up from the table. They nodded at her and picked up their forks. 

Julie fumed while she stuffed a tissue into her nose, trying to staunch the blood flow. Something tugged at her stomach. How dare her  _ tía _ try to take Mamá’s place! Julie  _ growled _ as the tissue came away soaked red. Her nosebleeds hadn’t been this frequent since she started learning Majik. After her mom’s passing, she had one every time she tried to use her Majik. She heard a knock at her bedroom door. Tía Victoria was on the other side when she opened it, her teal aura tinged with grey. 

“Can I talk to you, Julie?” She asked. Julie nodded, stepping aside to let her into her room.

Tía Victoria took a deep breath, “ _ Lo siento _ , Julie. I didn’t mean to upset you. I won’t say it again.” 

“I accept your apology, Tía. It’s fine if you want to call me a nickname, just don’t use Mamá’s.”

Tía grinned shakily, the grey fading from her aura. She opened her arms for a hug, and Julie accepted. 

“Oh, is your nose bleeding?”

“Yeah, it’s been happening a lot recently. I don’t know why.”

* * *

On the night of the waxing gibbous, as always, Rashida took Julie to the clearing in the ancient forest to practice her Lightning Generation. Rashida held up a rock the size of her fist for Julie to aim at. As Julie went through the motions, she thought of her friends, Carlos, Tía, her parents,  _ Mamá.  _ The rush that she got whenever she summoned her lightning suddenly soured. The lightning around her wrists crackled as she shot it, and it did not just hit the stone. Rashida’s eyes bugged out, and she yelped as she dove to dodge the lightning coming right for her. 

“Oh my gosh! Rashida, I am so sorry! Are you alright? Can spirits even get hurt?” Julie cried, rubbing at her wrists. Julie then held them up to the moonlight. White lines wrapped around them, lightning trails burned onto her skin.

Rashida brushed her shoulder-length braids out of her face and pushed herself up. “I’m fine, little new moon. Just startled. Wasn’t expecting that.” 

“I-I made Negative Lightning, didn’t I? I  _ never _ miss otherwise.” 

“How do you feel?”

Julie paused for a second. “I feel sad and scared. Maybe a little angry? Kinda...buzzy too. Like my chest is full of bees. And not in a good way.”

“Yes, definitely Negative Lightning then. The bees should feel good.” Rashida cracked a grin, brushing off her yellow tunic. “Perhaps we should practice your knife work instead, leave this for a later date.” 

“Yeah, good idea,” Julie replied, pulling out her iron dagger, the multicolored gem embedded in the hilt glinting in the moonlight. Something tugged in her stomach. Blood dripped onto the silver grass.

* * *

Rashida, Anne, and Caoimhe kept their promise to Rose as best as they could. After the bad nights, when pillowcases were dotted with dried tears; Rashida would make honey cakes, leaving them on the kitchen table for breakfast. 

When Carlos took to strange places on the internet, detailing afterlives and rituals involving summoning the dead; Anne would guide his hand toward the safer parts, close his laptop, and pull his quilt to his chin. 

Caoimhe took to following Ray when she wasn’t with Julie. She often drifted behind him while he was out on shoots, or left glasses of water next to him when he worked late. 

The three puzzled over the washing machine and the refrigerator, but Caoimhe learned through watching Victoria and Ray use them. She showed Rashida and Anne.  _ Fascinating _ , they thought. Then, they started to put clothes through the wash, run the dishwasher, replace food, and turn off the house’s lights. 

The living residents of the house, besides Julie, were quite confused at first, but they soon grew used to it. They simply assumed someone else in the house had done the laundry or the dishes. Or, sometimes, they thought Rose was watching over them. They were right, but not in the way that they expected.

* * *

Flynn was by Julie’s side near constantly. She pulled Julie out of her room for study dates, sleepovers, trips to the mall, and on one occasion, to a concert by a local indie band. The band was called 4dust, and the gig was at a “teen club” where high schoolers could experience going to a nightclub without any of the alcohol. It was hot, it was loud, and all Julie wanted to do was  _ go home _ . The walls seemed to close in on her, people were staring at her, and...

The first note on the keyboard struck like a discordant flash of lightning. Something sour coiled itself around Julie’s gut, bile rose in her throat. She tugged on the sleeve of Flynn’s fuzzy black-and-white jacket, and said, “Flynn, I’ve gotta go.”

“What? Julie, we  _ just  _ got here!” Flynn replied, confused.

“ I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

Flynn took Julie’s hand and led her to the dimly-lit club bathroom. Julie couldn’t breathe as she knelt over the toilet bowl. Her head throbbed in time with her rabbiting heart. Julie groaned, rubbing her forehead. Her stomach seized up, and she gagged, but nothing came out. She gasped for air that didn’t settle in her lungs. Flynn held back Julie’s hair, eyes flicking about in confusion. 

“Shit, Jules, I think you’re having a panic attack. Fuck, what did our counselor say? Deep breaths? Yeah, that sounds right. Okay, Julie can you hear me?” Flynn put one of Julie’s hands on her knee. “One tap for yes, two for no.” 

One tap.

“Okay, count with me. In through your nose for one, two three, four. And out through your mouth for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.” 

Julie tapped her fingers to the rhythm. They repeated the cycle until Julie was no longer shaking with each breath. 

“Are you good to talk, Jules?” Two taps.

“Let’s go find some water, okay?” One tap.

Once both girls had bottles of water in their hands, they sat on a bench outside and waited for Mr. Molina to pick them up. The club’s noises were muffled, nearly drowned out by the rest of Los Angeles.

“I think it was the music,” Julie said suddenly, snapping Flynn out of her thoughts. Julie looked down at her feet, took a swig of her water, and said, “when I heard the keyboard, it-it was like I couldn’t breathe. I just  _ had _ to get outta there. Sorry, I ruined your night.”

“Don’t be. I would’ve never suggested we come here if I knew this,” Flynn gestured to Julie, “was gonna happen.”

* * *

After that night, Tía Victoria left a business card on the Molina’s kitchen table. Dr. Turner. A therapist that offered grief counseling services specialized in older children and teens. 

“It’s just a trial session,  _ mariposa _ ,” Ray said, trying to calm his irate daughter.

“I don’t care! I don’t wanna go!” Julie snapped back. Something tugged in her stomach. Her nose started to bleed again. Sighing, she reached for a tissue. 

“Julie. Just once. If you don’t like it, you’ll never have to go again.”

“Well I’m telling you, I won’t like it already!” Julie’s voice was muffled by the tissue in her nose.

Julie went.

She was..surprisingly okay with it. It felt almost relaxing. Being able to get her problems off her chest to an  _ actual professional _ , who would be able to help her better than three spirit ladies who were older than the phrase “ _ mental health _ ” ever could; it was nice.

So, Julie went back. For three times a week for almost two months, before the sessions reduced to twice a week, then to once a week, then to once a month. Her spirits never went inside her sessions, but waited politely for her in the waiting room. It was funny seeing Caoimhe read  _ People Magazine _ over some lady’s shoulder in the name of “knowledge, Anne! I need to know things! That’s my whole deal!” It also taught Julie a much-needed skill. It taught her how to lie.

Of course, Julie didn’t  _ want _ to lie to her therapist, but it wasn’t like she could  _ prove _ that she had three spirits constantly by her side. So, she told Dr. Turner about Anne, Caoimhe, and Rashida, but left out the fact that they were dead. She wore shiny, numerous bracelets to conceal her lightning scars. She hid the  _ dozens _ of knives she had gathered and gained over the years. Lies by omission. Useful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOO THREE HUNDRED HITS LETS GOOOO!!!  
> Thank you all SO MUCH for reading this thing!  
> NEXT CHAPTER: "You! You're the bitches that've been giving me nosebleeds this whole year!" "Um, sorry?"  
> Thank you, again!  
> -BANF  
> P.S: a musical reccomendation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GM8qfd3gy8


	8. Ropes and Rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first part of the New Moon Prophecy comes to be. Three more ghosts invade Julie's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is a little late!   
> Mentions of blood and panic attacks, not much else.  
> Enjoy!

Julie’s hands shook throughout the day. She stumbled a bit as she walked. Caoimhe held her elbow to keep her from falling. Julie kept thinking about her scheduled performance, her last shot to be  _ not _ booted from Los Feliz’s music program. What would she play? Would she even be  _ able _ to play? She felt-and looked, probably-very out of sync with the world. Flynn, bless her heart, offered to let Julie borrow her French notes. Julie could see the mouths of her teachers and classmates moving, but she couldn't hear the words coming out. The world blurred around her until suddenly, she was in Ms. Harrison’s classroom, staring at the grand piano. 

The bench was cold and slightly dusty under her jeans. Julie lifted the cover of the piano, put her fingers on the keys, and looked around the room. Ms. Harrison, smiling sadly at her, Flynn, grinning and holding two thumbs up, Anne, messing with Carrie’s hair, Nick, looking at her, worried. Eyes on her, both dead and alive. Watching, waiting,  _ staring _ at her.

In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight. Julie took a steadying breath. Her ears started buzzing. She flinched and took her hands off the keys. The room seemed fraught with electricity, waiting to find a target. Flynn stood up. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Julie whispered to Ms. Harrison, nearly choking on the words. Ms. Harrison sighed. The electricity dissipated and then reappeared. 

“Um, is this where we clap?” Carrie struck. Julie’s hearing sharpened. She had a sudden and vivid fantasy about burning Carrie’s designer bag to ashes, destroying all of her perfectly-written notes. But Julie was not petty, so she did not follow through. Anne, however, kicked over said bag as she made her way to Julie.

Julie turned to leave the room. Three sets of ghostly footsteps followed her. Flynn hissed, “watch it, Carrie!” and followed.

Footsteps rang across empty hallways as Julie ran. An echo followed. She slumped against a lockerless wall and buried her face in her hands. Only then did she allow the tears to come. 

“I can’t. I  _ can’t  _ and I’m so  _ sorry _ but I just can’t do it!” Julie hiccuped as Rashida, Anne, and Caoimhe created a barrier with their bodies around her. 

“You’re going to be okay, little new moon,” Rashida soothed as she pet Julie’s hair.

“I gotta-I gotta go.” Julie shuddered. 

“Where?” Anne asked, fiddling with the bracelets on Julie’s wrist.

“Anywhere but here.” 

“Our beach?” Caoimhe’s hand gripped Julie’s shoulder.

“Our beach.” Julie wrapped her Majik around herself like a hug, and her sneakers touched sand and pebbles. Left behind at Los Feliz High School, Flynn gaped at the spot where Julie had just had a conversion with the  _ air  _ and then  _ disappeared. _

* * *

Julie’s Beach wasn’t  _ hers _ , technically. She had found it by accident while practicing her long-distance teleportation. Julie only had a vague idea of where the beach even was. However, Julie knew that it was secluded, and it was  _ beautiful _ . Slippery rocks dotted the shoreline, creating  _ excellent _ tide pools full of anemones, snails, and starfish. Getting to the beach necessitated a climb down a nearly-sheer cliff face after a hike through a wild forest. Not even the most ambitious of explorers visited Julie’s Beach. The only sounds were the crashing waves, the squalling seabirds, and the rustling of Julie’s feet in the sand.

Julie, Rashida, Anne, and Caoimhe all found solace at the beach. Julie stood barefoot in the sand, watching the waves and breathing. Caoimhe disappeared into the forest, content to walk among brambles that could not be tangled in her long, long hair. Anne skipped between tide pools, making up stories about the animals that made their homes in between the forest and the ocean. When she could persuade Caoimhe to watch with her, she would regale her stories out loud in exchange for Caoimhe’s nature facts. Rashida moved with the swooping of the seabirds, mimicking their movements to weave into her combat. Oftentimes, Anne would be goaded into being Rashida’s test dummy for new moves.

Today, all four watched the waves. Julie breathed in for four counts, held it for seven, and breathed out for eight. Caoimhe took Julie’s hair out of its ponytail and started to braid it with deft fingers. Anne’s arm wound around her shoulder. Rashida traced the scars under her bracelets. Waves of comfort crashed over Julie. Here, surrounded by her caretakers for sixteen years, away from the loudness of Los Angeles, the tension coiled around her spine began to unwind. The breaths came a little easier each time. 

“Are we gonna talk about what happened?” Anne breathed, trying not to break the fragile peace surrounding the four of them.

“It’s up to Julie,” responded Caoimhe from behind. 

“No.” Julie plopped down and dug her hand into the sand. “Eventually, I know. But,” she sighed, “not now.”

“Hey Julie,” Anne asked, kneeling down beside her, “wanna go look at the tide pools?”

“Sure,” answered Julie, a grin cracking her face, “let’s go find some anemones to feed.”

* * *

Later, after all the sand had been scrubbed from underneath her fingernails, Julie sat at her kitchen table, doing her math homework and eating one of Rashida’s honey cakes. Caoimhe watched over her shoulder. Her dad tramped down the stairs.

“Oh good,  _ Mija _ , you’re home,” he said, coming to rest his hand on the counter behind him, “Carlos’s game starts in a few.” Spotting the honey cakes, he snatched one off of Julie’s plate. 

“Hey!”

“I’ve had photoshoots all day! Haven’t had a chance to eat!” he shrugged unapologetically. “I got a phone call today,” he swallowed the cake and cleared his throat. Julie sighed.

“I figured as much.” Julie removed her reading glasses and set them on her notebook, “Lemme guess, I’m gonna have to serve a detention.” 

“Detention?  _ Mija,  _ what are you talking about? It was from my realtor friend.” Ray asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Oh, that!”

“She says if we  _ are _ serious about selling the house, I’m gonna have to take some pictures for the appraisal and the website.” Ray sat down next to Julie, “which means we have to do  _ a lot _ of cleaning. I was wondering if you could handle  _ Mamá _ ‘s studio and your room, then Carlos and I could get the rest of the house?”

“I’ll try,  _ Papá _ . Maybe tonight?”

“Thank you,  _ Mija _ .” Ray grinned and clapped once. “Oh, don’t forget the loft, those old instruments are still up there. They’ll need new homes.”

“ _ Mamá _ would’ve liked that,” Julie added with a soft smile.

“Yeah, she would’ve,” Ray checked his watch and sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I’m gonna be late if I don’t leave soon, but we will be talking about the detention threat later.” He patted down his pockets. “ _ Llaves _ , keys, where did they go?” He muttered.

“I think I saw them under there!” Said Caoimhe, pointing to the unopened mail on the counter. Julie repeated it to Ray. 

Ray twisted, spotted the keys, and snapped his fingers, “you’re a lifesaver,  _ Mija _ .” Then he left.

* * *

Julie made her way to the garage-turned-studio tucked into her forest-yard. Anne walked beside her. 

“Do you want me to go in with you?” She asked once the two had stopped in front of the large doors.

“No, but thanks.” said Julie, staring up at the studio, “I need to do this on my own.” She breathed in for four, held it for seven, and breathed out for eight.

“I’ll be waiting out here,” Anne twisted Julie’s bracelet, “yell if you need backup.” The two exchanged a grin, and Julie reached for the studio doors. Anne slipped away to the side, hidden by the bushes.

* * *

Alex slumped against a wall, shuddering and gasping for breaths that would not come. He squeezed his eyes shut. The darkness surrounded him. His bandmates, his friends, his  _ brothers _ were nowhere to be seen. An arm across his shoulders, burning hot, squeezed him close to a muscular side.  _ Luke _ . A cold hand, reaching to grip his knee.  _ Reggie _ . The dual temperatures grounded him, his shuddering subsided. The tears still flowed freely, but breathing came easier.

“Alex?” Reggie’s voice was soft, echoing across the strange dark room. 

“I’m okay, I-I think.” Alex’s voice caught, and he coughed to clear his throat. Before he could continue, his body was jerked forward, his nose slamming into the ground as he sprawled.

“Whoa! Dude, what was that?” Luke asked as he reached for Alex’s arm to pull him up.

“What happened? Alex, where are you?” Reggie’s voice got squeaky with panic.

Alex groaned. “Something yanked me forward and slammed me into the ground. I’m fine.”

“Can you get back over here? Man, I can’t see a thing!” Alex rose onto his knees and began to scoot back towards the wall, and Reggie and Luke’s voices.

“It is  _ really _ dark in here! I can  _ feel _ my hand waving, but I can't  _ see _ it!”

Despite the panic, Alex managed a small giggle. Reggie’s antics always cheered him up. Alex braced himself against the wall, and rose, wobbling, to his feet. “Okay, I’m balanced. Are you two getting up soon?” Alex asked.

Reggie jumped to his feet with a grunt. “I’m up!” Then, both he and Alex held out their hands to pull Luke to his feet.

“Where are we?” Luke’s asked, not expecting an answer.

“Oh! How ‘bout we call it the darkroom!”

“Really, Reggie?  _ The darkroom _ ? Is that the best you can come up with?”

“Well, I’d like to see you-” Reggie’s retort was cut off by a tug that sent both him and Alex to their knees and dragged them halfway across the room.

“Ouch!” They cried out in unison.

Alex felt as if a rope was wrapped around his body, like he was the anchor of the losing team in a game of tug-of-war. The weight of the rope-thing stayed behind after the tug lost its strength. He could hear Luke’s footsteps echoing through the room as he jogged to where he estimated Alex and Reggie were. Then it happened again.

This time, all three jogged to try to get some slack in the tugging, but it eventually dragged them and slammed them into the opposite wall. Unexplainably,  _ Now Or Never _ started playing. Then, the tugging started up again, squeezing them  _ through the wall _ . Alex, Luke, and Reggie all started to scream as their bodies squeezed into a tunnel with a bright, blinding light at the end. Alex twisted and turned, but he could not regain any semblance of balance. His side hit carpeted flooring. Luke was next to him. Alex twisted onto his hands and knees, and gasped for air. He stood up and replaced his hat on his head as Reggie groaned and Luke coughed. 

“Whoa. Whoa! How did we get back here?” Luke exclaimed.

Alex took a good look around, and sure enough, he was in Sunset Curve’s studio.

Someone yelled. Naturally, Alex yelled back. Luke  _ shrieked _ , and nearly jumped into Alex’s arms. The unknown girl- _ it was a girl. What was a girl doing in their studio? _ \- gasped as she dropped a knife and shoved a wad of tissues up her nose, staining them red.

“You! You’re the bitches who’ve been giving me nosebleeds this whole year!” She growled, waving a finger at them accusingly. Her anger was muffled by the tissues still in her nose. 

“Um...we’re sorry?” Said Reggie, always the mediator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Boys Are Back from HSM3 starts playing*  
> I heavily overestimate my ability to write chapters.   
> Next chapter will be a continuation of episode one.   
> The beach isn't based on an actual beach, but one I made up in my mind.   
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> NEXT CHAPTER: "Stupid cassette tapes. How did anyone ever listen to music back then! It's so...tedious!"  
> Song recommendation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4uoaqvA-y6M


	9. Friends Old And New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie's take on the whole three-dead-guys-just-appeared-in-my-studio situation.  
> Mild language, discussions of death, mentions of poisonings, and burns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue lifted from episode one.  
> Can't bury your gays if they're already dead.  
> Me, looking at the canon last names and my already-written chapter: Well I think that's dumb so we're not gonna do that.  
> I just like the names I gave them better than the cannon ones.  
> Enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think!

Julie flung open the studio doors, because if she didn’t slam them they might’ve not opened at all. The studio was coated in dust. It settled in Julie’s lungs and she coughed it back out. When she flicked on the lights, everything was the same, but different. The piano was still covered in a sheet, but the plants were wilting. The loft was  _ incredibly _ cluttered, but all mementos of Rose were gone. Movement that usually followed her instead followed behind Julie, whether she liked it or not. She pulled the sheet off of the piano and folded it up. 

“Hey  _ Mamá _ , “ Julie’s voice and hands shook, “it, um, it’s been a while hasn’t it?” She removed the pages of music on the bench and placed them on top of the piano. “ _ Lo siento _ . I haven’t been here. I wish I had been.” She looked up to the ceiling and past the stars, where Rose was watching over her.  _ Lo siento también, Mija, _ she would say. Julie could almost hear it in her mind. A deep breath, and Julie stood up from the piano bench. She opened the floral print curtains by the north side of the studio, and the late afternoon sunlight flooded the studio golden. 

Julie climbed the ladder up into the loft, watching the ground fall away beneath her slippered feet. There were so. Many. Things. A cherry-red bass, three or four guitar cases, a fully assembled drumkit- _ who put these things here? _ \- a keyboard - _ she had put that one there _ \- garbage bags full of clothes, a half-full carton of Camel cigarettes, a deck of cards, a stack of polaroids from the nineties, and a cassette tape.

Julie felt a tug and reached for the cassette tape. A swoopy logo written in permanent marker read  _ Sunset Curve _ , and underneath it,  _ Demo #1 _ . On the other side was a tracklist written in a slant and slightly smudged. She read it aloud.

“Track one: Late Last Night. Track Two: Lakeside Reflection. Track Three: In Your Starlight. Track Four: Now or Never,” she announced to the empty garage. Something in her told her to play it. She wasn’t sure how. One WikiHow article later, and she was still no closer to knowing  _ how the damn thing worked _ . “Stupid cassette tapes,” she grumbled, “how did people even listen to music back then? They’re so, so tedious!” She stomped down the stairs and over to the everything-player her mother had bought so she could play CDs, vinyl records, cassette tapes, and music from smartphones all in the same place. She would just have to put her faith in whoever listened to it last.

As the first track--a bouncy, up-tempo, pop punk-ish tune--started to play, Julie turned to the piano and grabbed a duster. She shook out the sheet again, and ran the duster over the top, sides, and bench of the piano. As it faded out, she grabbed the sheet and pillow covers from the couch and teleported them over to the washing machine. On her way back, she filled a mister with water for her plants.

As she misted the plants, Julie felt the music. Lakeside Reflection had summer-y vibes, with the background acoustic guitar and sunny imagery driving it home. In Your Starlight made her feel like calling Flynn and telling her how much Julie appreciated her, maybe even giving her the poem that she wrote. It was slower than the previous two, and set the scene of a group of friends stargazing after one of them had a bad day. By the time it faded out, Julie was shimmying her shoulders, waving her free arm, and stomping her feet to the songs.

As Now or Never started playing, Julie felt a familiar tug in her gut. It tried to pull her to...somewhere, but there was no way she would let it. Pressure built in her nose, blood dripped down her chin and onto her sweater. Yelling started over the music. The pull got stronger. 

“Uh-uh sister,” Julie muttered, gritting her teeth, “you ain’t getting me to no secondary location!” She planted her feet and  _ yanked _ . The tugging sensation disappeared, as well as the screaming.

It was replaced by coughing and groaning. A boy’s voice from behind her exclaimed, “Whoa. Whoa! How did we get back here?” and Julie whipped around, pulling her iron dagger from thin air.

Three other teenagers were standing in the middle of the studio. One was tucking his blonde hair beneath a baseball cap, while the one in the leather jacket and eyeliner popped his back and the one in the gray-and-black striped hoodie looked around in bewilderment. Julie couldn’t help it. She moved into a defensive position, knife up and palm out, and yelled as loud as she could. The three boys, not to be outdone, screamed back at her. Hoodie practically jumped into Blondie’s arms and grabbed onto Leather Jacket’s shoulders. A neighborhood dog howled along with them. Once all four stopped for air, which was quite a while, Julie realized that her nose was still bleeding. So, she grabbed a wad of tissues that she kept in her pocket and shoved them up her nose. She set her knife down within her reach- _ to anyone else it looked like you dropped it _ . She gasped as she realized that  _ these three are the cause of those tugs _ . 

Aloud, she said, “You!  _ You’re _ the bitches who’ve been giving me nosebleeds all year!”

“Um...we’re sorry?” Replied Leather Jacket, looking unsure and sheepish.

As Julie opened her mouth to respond, she heard Anne’s voice, “Kid! I heard screaming, is everything-” as she phased through the side wall of the studio -near the bookshelves, behind the _three_ _boys in her garage_ \- she was interrupted by _yet more screaming_ as Leather Jacket, Hoodie, and Blondie jumped around and found themselves face-to-face with Anne’s gaunt visage.

Anne simply sighed, crossed her arms over her chest, popped out her hip, and waited. The longer the screaming went on, the higher her eyebrow arched, and the more disdainful her look got.  _ Finally _ , they stopped screaming.  _ “Non-reaction,” _ Julie remembered Anne saying,  _ “is the best way to kill any emotional response.” _

“If you’re quite finished,” Anne said, tapping her foot. “Kid, if you could explain this, please?” She waved at Leather Jacket, Hoodie, and Blondie. 

“I’ll be honest I don’t really know what happened but I was playing music and watering the plants and then I heard this yelling so I turned around and there were these  _ guys _ in Mamá’s studio so  _ I  _ started yelling and then  _ they _ started yelling and now you’re here,” Julie let out in one rush of breath. “You three got anything to add?”

“Well last night,” Hoodie started, “we had just gotten off stage for our soundcheck at  _ The Orpheum _ -”

“We’re Sunset Curve,” Leather Jacket added, “tell your friends!”

“Thanks, bud.” Hoodie continued, “We got some pre-show fuel,”

“Street dogs,” interrupted Blondie, “ _ I  _ advised against it but these two just  _ had _ to have ‘em.”

Hoodie sighed. “Then we died, I guess. Then we went to this weird dark room, then we got sucked through a wall when one of our songs started playing and now we’re here and could you maybe forget about all the yelling?” His voice started to get high towards the end. 

“Wish I could…” Anne grumbled.

“Wait,  _ your mom’s _ studio? I-I’m pretty sure this is  _ our _ ,” Hoodie gestured to him and his apparent bandmates, “studio. The grand piano is new, sure, but-” He wandered over to the couch, and upon seeing it, launched himself into the cushions, “-my couch!” He glanced at the guitar hanging off of the wall. “That is  _ definitely not _ my six-string. What is going on?”

While Hoodie pulled Leather Jacket and Blondie into a whispered discussion, Anne sidled up to Julie. “Hey, why don’t you look up ‘Sunset Curve’ and see what we can find through the wonders of Google.”

Julie pulled out her phone, and typed in ‘Sunset Curve death.’ Her top result was a short article from the LA Times titled “Sunset Curve: A Hollywood Tragedy.” 

“Hey, what’s that? Whatcha doing?” Asked Hoodie, pointing at her phone.

“It’s a smartphone, and I’m googling Sunset  _ Swerve _ .” Julie got the name wrong, just to see what they would do.

The three were defensive, correcting her almost immediately and in unison. “Sunset  _ Curve _ !”

Julie rolled her eyes and began reading the article. She froze when she saw ‘1995’ written in the article. “Whoa,” she breathed, “you did die, but, not last night. 1995 was,” She paused as she did the math in her head. “Twenty-five years ago?” 

“Wait, what?”

“ _ Twenty-five years _ ? That’s impossible, all we did was go to that weird dark room where you cried for like, an hour.” Leather Jacket said to Blondie. 

“Well, I think we were all pretty upset.” Blondie squeaked in response.

“What else does it say ‘bout us?”

Julie continued, “The up-and-coming band  _ Sunset Curve _ , which, had this not happened, would have surely topped charts. Tragically, three-quarters of this young band will never get to see it. Guitarist and singer Lukas “Luke” Patterson, drummer Alexander “Alex” Acton, and bassist Reginald “Reggie” Sinclair were all found nearly deceased in an alleyway near The Orpheum, where they had been scheduled to play a sold-out showcase the night they died. They were seventeen. Ambulances were called, but the three did not survive the journey to the hospital.” Julie’s voice shook, but she continued. “Their autopsies concluded the cause of death to be sulfuric acid poisoning from,” she cleared her throat, “hot dogs and condiments filled with battery acid. The man who sold Luke, Alex, and Reggie the poisoned hot dogs is currently being taken to court for manslaughter by the lead singer’s parents, Mitchell and Emily Patterson. The surviving member, Robert “Bobby” Taylor, has not been available for comment at this time. The band had a demo including four songs,  _ Late Last Night _ ,  _ Lakeside Reflection _ ,  _ In Your Starlight _ , and  _ Now or Never _ . They were a versatile and talented group and would have made quite the mark on the music industry. Rest in peace, Sunset Curve.”

It was silent in the studio, at least until Anne moved. She walked right up to Hoodie - _ was he Luke, Alex, or Reggie? _ \- and wrenched his jaw open. Hoodie squeaked in surprise. He slapped weakly at Anne’s hand as she looked into his mouth and throat. Suddenly, she released him from her skinny-armed iron grip. Hoodie rubbed at his jaw.

“At least buy me dinner first!” He said, indignantly.

“Ew. Even if I liked boys in that way, you look like my little brother with a bad haircut. That’s just  _ weird _ .” Anne wiped her hand on her kirtle before she turned to face Julie. 

“Hey! My haircut isn’t  _ that _ bad!”

“It kinda is, Luke,” Blondie whispered.

“Anyways,” Anne said, “that one’s got burns on the backs of his teeth and throat, which is common in cases of sulfuric acid poisoning. It’s subtle, though. I really had to look.” 

“Um, awkward question, but, um, could we have your names?” Hoodie - _ no, Luke _ \- asked.

“Call me Anne,” said Anne.

“ _ Don’t  _ give _ them your name. Names have power _ .” Rashida’s voice whispered in Julie’s ear. “I’m-I’m Lunita,” answered Julie, using Tiá Victoria’s nickname for her.

“Cool. I’m Luke, by the way.” Luke said, “And this is,” he walked over to Leather Jacket and pointed at him.

“Reggie! Hi, I’m Reggie.” Said Leather Jacket

“Alex,” Blondie said quietly, “H-how’s it going.” It was more of a greeting than a genuine question.

Before Julie could respond, the doors of the studio swung open, and her little brother tramped in, hair scruffy from his helmet and the side of his pants stained with red clay. Anne ushered the three newest ghosts out of the way so that Julie could talk to her little brother. “Hey, you sad bitch, why weren’t you at my game? You missed me sliding home and scoring a run!”

Julie sighed. “Papá tasked me with cleaning out the studio. Didn’t he tell you? Granted, if he did, you wouldn’t’ve remembered.” Carlos gasped in mock affront. “You’re shaping up to be quite the airheaded jock.”

“I am  _ not _ !” Carlos clapped a hand to his chest, “Honestly, you call yourself my sister and then you go  _ insulting _ me!”

Julie scoffed. “You started it by calling me a _sad_ _bitch_.” 

“Oooh, you said a swear word! I’m telling Papá!” Carlos pointed at Julie dramatically.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Anything else you wanted to say, other than insults?” Julie asked.

“Dinner is gonna be ready soon, so go get washed up. You’re on dish duty ‘cause I’m setting the table.”

“I’ll be up soon. Don’t hog all the hot water.”

“What?”

“Shower. You’re covered in mud,  _ estupido _ .” 

Carlos scooped some of the clay onto his hand and squashed it onto Julie’s yellow sweater. He ran away, giggling as Julie shrieked after him. “ _ Carlos Manuel Molina _ ! I  _ will _ fill your bed with spiders!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As someone who was sixteen with twelve-year-old sisters, I can confirm that Julie's and Carlos's interactions in this story will be based on real life. Somewhat.  
> "Lunita" means little moon in Spanish, and I sort of based it off of Rashida's nickname for Julie (little new moon).  
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated!  
> NEXT CHAPTER: "Well I wasn't gonna give you my name, it's mine."  
> Signed,  
> BANF  
> P.S: A song I think is cool: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eafmzAwkjLw


	10. Missing Them, Meeting You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's favorite himbos annoy Julie and meet 300 pounds of rage compressed into a 130-pound body and channeled into SCIENCE! GHOST SCIENCE!  
> Also, Carlos gets spider-ed (reaction not shown)  
> This chapter is pretty Ray-heavy, let me know if I've got my characterization of him alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter, half a week late. It fought me every step of the way.  
> No content warnings that I can think of, but let me know

By the time Julie changed her sweater and scattered plastic spiders-left over from Halloween-on Carlos’s sheets, there was a bowl of spaghetti on the round dining table. Her dad popped slices of fresh toast onto a platter, Carlos pulled a thing of extra sauce out of the microwave and brought it to the table precariously, and Anne sat on the counter watching them both. At Julie’s raised eyebrow, she answered her silent question.

“Caoimhe went off on a research tangent when I told her about that darkroom thingy. You know how she gets, she’ll find a morsel of knowledge and she’s gotta know more.” Anne kicked her leg up and pouted. “Raz went to inform the Council about some developments in something she’s been tracking. Didn’t tell me what. They’ll both be-well, Raz at least-back by bedtime.” 

Julie nodded, a slight jerk of her head, and grabbed four plates and sets of silverware. Old habits die hard. She didn’t realize what she had done until she set the fourth plate-her mother’s plate.

The three Molinas sat down to eat. Joining hands with his children, Ray asked, “alright, Carlos, would you do the honors?“

Carlos bowed his head, and the rest followed his example. Julie and Carlos held out a hand to where Rose used to sit. “Thank you for our leftovers and the power of the mighty microwave!” Carlos lifted his head to beam at his family. Ray cracked a grin, Julie giggled softly, and Anne snorted.

“Amen,” Ray said.

“ _ Amen _ ,” Julie responded.

“Amen!” Anne pumped her fist in the air.

Ray went for the spaghetti tongs, loading up Julie’s and Carlos’s plates. Carlos snatched a piece of toast from the bowl as Ray began speaking.

“So,  _ Mariposa _ , Carlos says you were in the studio?”

“She was talking to someone, but no one else was out there and no one was on the phone!”

“Okay, I’ll admit it, I was talking to myself,” Julie sighed, “It’s just, Mamá’s studio was so  _ quiet _ . It needed something to fill the air. If not music, at least talking.”  _ The most believable lies have a bit of truth to them _ , she thought. Contemplative silence followed, broken by Tía Victoria’s voice.

“Hello, hello!” she called through the backdoor as she marched through it and into the kitchen. 

Carlos and Julie looked at each other and sprang into action. “Oh, busted!” Carlos groaned. Julie grabbed the silverware and plate while Carlos snatched up the setting mat and napkin. Julie passed the silverware to Ray and placed the extra plate in her lap. Ray tossed the silverware and Julie flinched as it clattered. Carlos sat on the setting mat. Anne waved from her position on the counter and beamed.

“Hey, Victoria!” Victoria did not answer.

“Spaghetti? Again?” she instead asked her family, grinning awkwardly. “Aw, that’s too bad,” Anne moved over and Victoria placed the dishes she was carrying near the cutting board, “I brought my _pasteles_ _y arroz con pollo_.” 

“It smells  _ really  _ good, Tía,” Julie called over her shoulder as Victoria picked up the two dishes and opened the fridge. Ray hummed in agreement.

“Ah, you can have it tomorrow,” Victoria waved her free hand at Julie and Julie grinned back. Victoria stowed the food and closed the fridge. “I  _ can’t _ let you have leftovers every night, my sister,” she made the sign of the cross, “ _ Dios guarde su alma _ , would kill me.” She walked over to the table, put one hand on the empty spot, and the other on Julie’s shoulder. “I see  _ this _ ,” she rubbed at the empty table setting, “is going better.”

“Actually,” Ray responded, “Julie has been cleaning out Mom’s studio.” Julie slurped her spaghetti self-consciously. “Hopefully, we can get the house on the market, get some offers soon.”

“Well,” Victoria’s smile widened, “I like the sound of that! Moving from here is only gonna help you move on.”

Julie heard the hum that announced the arrival of a ghost. Three, one right after the other. Alex, Luke, and Reggie stumbled over the threshold of the Molina house. 

“You’ve got to rip that band-aid off and get it over with!” Tía Victoria continued. 

Julie looked up from her spaghetti to see  _ three more ghosts _ in her house. Her eyes bugged out as Reggie waved. The three started to move towards the table. Julie yelled, and they froze. Victoria, Carlos, and Ray looked at her.

“That’s me,” Julie giggled nervously, “rippin’ off the band-aid. Aah!” Carlos chuckled in response with a finger gun.

Tía Victoria grabbed her by the chin and cooed, “There’s my brave girl!” Julie grinned awkwardly.

“Hey, Lunita,” Luke said,  _ right next to Julie’s ear _ , “I really like what you guys did with the place!” He grinned as Julie turned to look at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?” she nearly snapped at him, as her family turned to look at her. 

“I’m just here to help, Julie.” Her tía said, slightly hurt.

“Tía, you’ve got pilates tonight, right?” She waved to Tía’s matching, athletic outfit.

“Uh, I think that’s our cue to leave,” Alex said to Luke.

“Yes, yes it is,” Anne called.

“Thanks for bringing us food,” Julie nearly squeaked as she hugged Tía Victoria.

“Oh,” Tía Victoria said as she hugged Julie back, “it’s nothing.” Julie turned to glare daggers at the three boys. They backed away, as they should. Julie’s glare was terrifying.

“We should’ve,” Reggie said, holding his hands out placatingly as the three backed away, ”called first.”

“And now that you’re no longer in the music program,” Tía Victoria said as Julie’s heart dropped, “you can concentrate on classes that matter.” Ray’s breath caught in his throat. “You got the email from the school, right?”

“Yeah,” Ray said softly, “we’re still discussing it.”

“ _ Bueno _ , I’m off to pilates,” Tía Victoria blew a kiss to Carlos, who made a show out of lunging to catch it and then swinging a baseball bat at it.

“Wa-chow! It’s gone!” They all giggled, and Tía Victoria pressed a kiss to the back of Julie’s head.

“ _ Te amo mucho, mijos, _ ” she said as she walked away from the dinner table.

As soon as she was gone, Carlos tried to strike up a conversation anew. “So, Julie, wanna hear how I slid home and scored a run?”

Ray sighed, “you’re a good brother. That’s not gonna work.” He snapped his fingers and Carlos grabbed his plate and stood up from the table. 

“I tried,” he shrugged.

“Thanks anyway, Carlos.” He climbed the stairs to his room, accompanied by Anne drifting behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ray began, “You made me lie to your aunt.”

“ _ Lo siento _ . I was gonna tell you after dinner.” Julie’s voice rasped softly.

“Yeah, sure you were.” Ray’s voice hardened slightly.

“I was!” Julie’s voice cracked.

“ _ Mariposa _ , I know those classes can be difficult, but,” Ray looked his daughter in the eyes, “you still like music, don’t you?”

Julie looked away. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Now, the detention?”

Julie looked back up. “Sitting at the piano today, I couldn’t play. I ran out of class and had,” her voice quieted to a near whisper, “an attack. I couldn’t get it under control in time to get to my last class. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Oh,  _ mija _ , I’m your  _ father _ , it’s my job to worry,” Ray sighed, “look, we talked about this, you know? About how painful memories can be but,” he trailed off, sniffed, and started again, “You know, every time I see you and Carlos, I see Mamá,” Ray took hold of Julie’s fingers, and continued, “It’s like she’s right here with us. And maybe if you’d give yourself a chance, you’ll get there.” The cicadas droned softly in the silence that followed. 

Loud guitar chords rang out, muffled by the studio. Julie whipped her head around, and Carlos half-ran down the stairs.

“What was that?” he asked, leaning over the banister.

“I, uh, must’ve left the stereo on in the garage!” Julie exclaimed. She rose to her feet, took the plate off her lap, and huffed, “I’ll go get it!” She halfway-stomped out the back door, sighing in exasperation.

When she got to the studio, the three boys were  _ playing instruments _ . Deep blue guitar, cherry-red bass, full drum kit. She planted her feet and started yelling, “Guys! Guys, stop!” Luke looked over at her and his face lit up. Reggie and Alex hadn’t noticed her yet, they were too loud and focused on jamming. Julie persisted, “Enough! Stop! Cut it out!” Reggie noticed her and froze, immediately stopping his playing with a worried look on his face. Luke launched into a showy solo, but Alex’s beat was beginning to slow down. They finished and grinned up at her. Julie was not impressed. She crossed her arms over her chest and snapped, “The whole neighborhood could hear you! Why are you still here?”

“Wait, people could hear us play?” Luke questioned as he leaned down towards her.

“Yes! And so did my dad  _ and  _ my brother!” She hissed, tilting her face up to look into Luke’s eyes.

“Wait, wait,” Alex stood up from behind the drumkit as Reggie and Luke turned to set down their instruments. “Only  _ you _ can see us, but  _ everyone  _ can hear us?” He gestured wildly with his drumsticks. Luke bounced on his toes and Reggie grinned at the two. “What kind of ghosts are we?” Alex asked in confusion.

“Who cares, man!  _ People can hear us play _ !” Luke’s smile only grew as he fist-bumped Reggie and Alex, and stuck his fist out for a third to his other side. None came.

“We might be dead, but our music isn’t.” Quipped Reggie, tapping his knuckles against Alex’s. Julie huffed, but before she could respond, her dad opened the studio doors. Julie turned to face him, baring her teeth in an awkward smile.

“Papá!” She announced.

“Hey,  _ mariposa _ . Just making sure you’re okay.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Julie explained, “Just had to figure out how to work a cassette tape player.”

Ray turned toward the instruments that the boys had set up, taking it in for the first time. “Hey, is this the junk that was up in the loft?”

“Junk?” Luke cried, offended. Julie bit the inside of her lip to keep from giggling. Ray walked around the drums, hitting them lightly with his pointer fingers and palms. The boys flocked around him.

“Y’know, some of this stuff’s in pretty good shape,” Ray tapped the bass drum pedal with his foot, “Could sell ‘em, make a few bucks,” he suggested. Alex gasped in affront as Ray spun his cymbals.

“Hey!” Alex yelled at an unhearing Ray, “Stop touching my drums! Lunita, Mariposa, Julie, whatever your name is, tell him to stop  _ touching my drums _ !”

“Papá, maybe be a bit more careful? Some of that looks fragile.”

“Alright, alright,  _ mariposa _ .” Ray moved out from behind the drums, “Hey, what was that song you just had on? I liked it!”

Julie racked her brain, trying to think of a name for the song, as Luke, Alex, and Reggie swarmed her dad. 

“Sweet! We’re Sunset Curve!” Luke grinned.

“Tell your friends,” Reggie added.

“It’s just an  _ old _ cassette tape I found,” Julie replied, having not found a name to call the song.

“It’s nice that you’re listening to music again,” Ray smiled softly, “Out here, you can play whatever you want, whenever you want,” he waved his hands and they passed through Reggie and Luke’s chests. The two stumbled back.

“Aw!” Reggie beamed, Luke and Alex following suit. “That’s nice!”

Julie forced the hint of a smile onto her face. _Do not acknowledge the ghosts. Do not acknowledge the ghosts. Papá is here. You do not want to seem like una loca in front of Papá._ Out loud, she said, “Thanks, Papá. Can you give me a minute?” She made to leave the studio. Her dad grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey.” Ray said, “We’re gonna figure out this music thing,  _ bueno _ ?”

Julie sighed, then met her dad’s eyes. “ _ Bueno _ .” Then, she motions for him to shoo, and he surprisingly obliges.

As soon as the garage doors are closed behind him, the three boys jump into motion. “He likes our song!” Luke nearly giggled, bouncing on his toes and flapping his hands.

“Eh, he doesn’t count,” At Reggie and Luke’s confused looks, Alex added, “He’s a dad.” 

Julie snapped. “Why can’t you just be  _ regular _ ghosts? I don’t need three more! Why don’t you go haunt an old mansion? I hear Pasadena’s nice!” She growled and stomped out. Before she could close the doors, she heard one of them say, “I think she’s warming up to us.” Another replied, “I’ve always wanted to go to Pasadena.” Julie stalked up the stairs, but Luke appeared in front of her. “Stop  _ doing that _ !” She hissed.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He had the  _ audacity _ to look slightly cowed.

“What do you want?” Julie questioned.

“I know this is insane, but you do realize how _completely rad_ this is right?” Luke asked, a grin on his face that would’ve been infectious to anyone but Julie. ”People, _actual_ _people_ can hear us play!” He stumbled a bit in his excitement. 

“That's nice.” Julie’s words were icy. “It’s just, I’ve had a really,  _ really _ awful year. Take it up with Caoimhe if you’re that excited. I’ve gotta go.” Julie started to walk past him.

“I’m sorry that you had a bad one, but three guys just found out they had a bad  _ twenty-five _ .” Luke stopped her, his voice shaky. “An-and then they found out that the one thing,  _ the one thing _ that they lived for in the first place they can still do! That’s pretty rad!” His voice faded into a whisper, meant only for her. 

“You’re right.” Julie barely spoke. “It’s just-”

“ _ Your _ bad year. Yeah. I know.” He continued with hand gestures, “Look, I’m sorry we came into your life, but,” he took an (unneeded) deep breath, “what I just felt in there, actually made me feel  _ alive _ again.  _ We all _ felt alive.” Julie sucked in a breath. “So, you can kick m- _ us _ out if you want, but I- _ we’re _ not giving up on music. We can play again! That’s a gift  _ no _ musician would ever turn down!” Julie’s face hardened into marble again. “But, before we go, could we ask you some questions?” 

Julie groaned softly, “Fine.” She walked back into the studio and was greeted with the  _ delightful _ sight of two nearly-adult teenagers cowering in fear from Caoimhe, who, when stood upright, was a whole half-foot shorter than both of them. Granted, Caoimhe was also made of pure, tattooed muscle, her hair was braided with wires, which grew constantly  _ and _ moved on its own. At the time, Caoimhe and her hair had found a target in Reggie and Alex, who were valiantly trying to fend off the red-and silver strands from the couch.

“Julie, what do you want me to do with the trespassers?” Caoimhe asked, her voice deceptively light.

“ _ Guests _ , currently.” Julie corrected. 

“Whoops!” Her hair rebraided itself back to its normal waist length. “Sorry about that, better to be safe than sorry, yes?”

Reggie took a tentative step down from the couch, and said weakly, “It-it’s all good.” Alex followed, once no attempts to attack started again.

“Anyway, Luke, you had questions?” Julie asked.

“Yeah, first question, who is this other chick?”

“ _ This chick’s _ name is Caoimhe. I reside here.” Caoimhe answered.

“Cool. What’s your name? Do you have three or something? ‘Cause  _ you _ said Lunita, but your dad called you Mariposa, and  _ she _ just called you Julie.”

“It’s Julie.” She explained. 

“Wait, what?” Luke tilted his head to the side, puzzled. “Why’d you lie the first time?”

“Names have power and I’m not just gonna  _ give _ you mine. It’s  _ mine _ . I didn’t know your intentions.” 

“I wasn’t gonna do anything, I just wanted to know your name!” Luke protested.

“Well, I didn’t know that. The wording of a question is important.”

“So, can we stay? We’ll try not to bother you.” Reggie asked, tugging at his earlobe and looking unsure of himself. 

Julie looked at the three boys, then at Caoimhe, then at the floor. She nibbled at her lip. She relented. “Fine,-”

“Thank you so much!” Luke exclaimed, “I could hug you right now! Seriously, we can’t thank you enough!”

“But,” Julie held up a finger, “I have conditions.”

“Anything, Julie,” Luke said.

“First, no bothering me when I can’t respond-”

“I’ll hold these two to it,” said Alex, raising his hand like he was in school.

“Second, you don’t play alone.”

“Band bonding! I love it!” Reggie clapped his hands.

“And third, you three are helping Caoimhe with her research.”

“Sure,” Luke smiled, then realized what he was agreeing to. His brow furrowed. “Wait, you want us to help  _ her _ ?” He waved toward where Caoimhe stood.

“Well, I will not  _ experiment _ on you, simply ask questions. The greater part of my work is based in theory, and I am quite lacking in knowledge on the limbos and what are known as ‘alarm bell’ souls.” Caoimhe explained, gesturing to the books and journals on the coffee table. “This will be an educational experience for  _ both _ parties involved.” She grabbed a journal with a brown leather cover and runic writings burned into the front cover. She opened the journal to an empty page and pulled her favored writing utensil, a charcoal pencil, out of thin air. “Shall we get started?” She asked, an eerie grin splitting her face.

"Besides," Julie added, "she can help you solve the 'what kinds of ghosts are we?' question."

"Are you _sure_ she's safe?" Alex asked, tapping his fingers against his arm.

"Not in the slightest!" Caoimhe responded, cheerfully.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Julie turned to head back into her house, smiling all the while leaving the boys to Caoimhe’s mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish used:  
> Pasteles y arroz con pollo-Pastry and rice with chicken  
> Dios guarde su alma-God protect her soul  
> Te amo mucho, mijos-I love you very much, children (mijos used in this context just means child-age family members)  
> Lunita-Little moon  
> Lo siento-I'm sorry  
> Mariposa-butterfly  
> Una loca-a crazy woman  
> Thank you again for reading! Happy Holidays! Comments and kudos are quite appreciated!  
> Next chapter: "Subliminal messages in lullabies. Who would've thought of that."  
> -BANF  
> P.S: a song reccomenation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDjAt7zj7Z8


	11. Venom in My Veins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost bonding time ghost bonding time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character deaths discussed in this chapter  
> Me: alright, what should be in the next chapter?  
> The goblin that lives in my brain: Make Reggie cry  
> Me: You. I like how you think.

When Julie made her way up to her room, Anne was sitting on her desk, with Rashida standing over her, hands planted on either side of Anne.

“I’m  _ telling _ you,” Rashida nearly growled, “it’s starting. All of the pieces are here, and we need to make the next move.”

“ _Three beyond to lead her, three beyond to follow_ ,” Anne breathed, her face flushing. She averted her eyes and crossed her arms before continuing. “I thought we would have more time. _Mother_ _Mary_ , she’s so _young_.”

Julie felt a spike of curiosity, but beyond all, she was tired. Summoning not one but  _ three _ ghosts out of limbo was hard work. Relying on muscle memory, she tucked her hair into a loose bun and washed her face. When she came out of the bathroom, ready for bed, Anne and Rashida’s conversation had come to an end. They sat beside each other on Julie’s desk.

“Could you please get out of my laptop? You  _ know _ that’ll mess with my tabs.”

“Sorry,” Anne and Rashida said in unison. They stood up from the desk.

Julie collapsed into bed with a groan and a huff. She mashed her face into her pillow. Her head was throbbing. She groaned again.

“Tonight’s the waxing gibbous, but we’ll hold off on training tonight. You need the rest more, little new moon,” Rashida said as she flicked off Julie’s lights.

“Rashida? Anne?” Julie asked, “I have a kinda weird request.” 

“What is it, Julie?” Anne asked in return.

“Could you,” Julie said softly, “sing me to sleep?”

Although she could not see it, the two smiled. “Of course, Julie.”

Their song was beautiful and slow, with a rhythm like deep breaths, easy to listen to. Anne took higher harmonies, Rashida’s lower voice was perfect for the song. They wove a small bit of calming, relaxing Majik into their words, and Julie was asleep in five minutes flat.

“ _ It’s time to learn to be, _ ” They sang, with a faint accompanying guitar, “ _ more forgiving of yourself _ .” With a final strum, they left Julie to her dreams. 

“Subliminal messages in a lullaby, huh?” Anne cracked a grin towards Rashida. “Who would’ve thought.” Rashida smiled back at her. 

* * *

When the two phased through the studio doors, Caoimhe was scribbling furiously in her journal, and her hair flicked erratically. The three newest ghosts were piled onto one end of the couch, as far away from Caoimhe’s “mad scientist” persona as politely possible. Anne sat on the other arm of the couch, while Rashida took the unoccupied chair. 

“Anything you’d like to share with the class, Caoimhe?”

Caoimhe looked up from her writing and pointed at Alex. “That one’s the one that opened up the limbo, from what they’ve told me. All three of them are potentially part of the, um, the you-know-what.” Then, she went back to her writing.

“Anne and I have already had that conversation,” Rashida said.

“It’s being set in motion sooner than we realized,” Anne added, “do you still have those shielding spell recipes rattling around in there?” She poked her own head for emphasis, “She might need them.”

“I am not a knowledge spirit for no reason, Anne.” Caoimhe sighed. “ _ Of course _ I still know those spells.”

“Hey, I was just making sure!” Anne waved her arms defensively, “You of all people know how dangerous soul-swallowers can be!”

Caoimhe’s pencil froze. “Yes, I remember.” She whispered sharply.

“Wait, soul- _what nows_ ?” Alex asked in alarm.

“Soul-swallowers,” Rashida replied, bluntly. “Very dangerous and malicious spirits. You should pray you never meet one.”

“Oh, okay,” Alex’s eyes widened with fear. “What are the odds we  _ do _ run into one?”

“Either very high or slim to none. On one hand, you are three volatile, young ghosts with limited experience with spirits. One the other, you have a built-in forewarning system for danger, and you are surrounded by four of the most powerful spirit-witches the world has ever seen.”

“Wait,  _ four _ ?” Luke interjected. “But only you three are ghosts!”

“Well it’s Rashida, Caoimhe, Julie, and I.” Anne explained. “And, we are  _ spirits _ , not  _ ghosts _ .”

“What’s the difference?”

“All spirits start out as ghosts, but spirits are much more powerful than ghosts. If a spirit is part of a coven, then they are called a  _ spirit-witch _ .”

“So y’all are in a coven?” Reggie asked.

“Not Julie, not yet. But the label still applies. She is not quite a spirit, but not quite human either.”

“So,” Luke said, “you guys have obviously been around for a while, mind catching us up on, like, music?”

“What do you want to know?” Caoimhe asked.

“Green Day and Phoenix Witch? How’re they doing?” Luke asked.

“Ooh! John Denver and Dolly Parton!” Reggie added.

“Uh, maybe, Madonna and Whitney?” Alex’s suggestion was quiet.

“What was that second one, Luke?” Anne asked, a huge grin on her face.

“Phoenix Witch, they’re this super awesome punk band, like, their lyrics are awesome, their stage presence is  _ incredible _ , they’re hard-working and talented and they were gonna be on this Warped Tour thing with a bunch of other super-awesome bands and-why are you smiling like that?”

Anne, Rashida, and Caoimhe looked away from each other and schooled their expressions. “No reason,” Anne said airily.

“Green Day; released their album  _ Father of All Motherfuckers _ earlier this year, Madonna; released  _ Madame X _ last year, Dolly Parton; set to release  _ A Holly Dolly Christmas _ in October,” Caoimhe said as if she was reciting from a page. She continued, “Whitney Houston; OD’d and drowned in two-thousand and twelve, John Denver; released his last album  _ All Aboard! _ in nineteen ninety-seven, died in a plane crash two months later. As for Phoenix Witch, they stopped touring in two thousand and five, and are currently,” She paused and grinned at Anne and Rashida again, “sitting in this studio.”

“ _ What _ ?” Alex, Reggie, and Luke said in unison.

“Yeah, we were dead  _ long _ before we started writing music,” Anne said, shrugging casually. “We all figured, ’ _ why the hell not? _ ’ so we formed a band.” 

Reggie suddenly let out a choked sob. He looked like he had been slapped. His eyes were watering, his jaw slack. “He-he’s dead?” Reggie asked quietly. 

“I met his ghost once,” Anne said, turning to face Reggie. “He said that he was going to hike the entirety of the Rockies.”

It took some time for Reggie to breathe normally. Anne, Rashida, and Caoimhe looked away out of respect.

“Sorry.” Reggie’s voice was hoarse. “He-he was just a real comfort for me growing up, so,” He trailed off.

“That’s understandable. Ghosts’ emotions of grief tend to run deeper than humans, seeing as they are what connects us to our pasts,” Caoimhe explained, “but be careful. Do not let them get the better of you.”

It was quiet in the studio for a few minutes.

Luke broke it.

“So, like, how long have you guys been ghosts?” He asked. “Was it, like, all three of you at the same time, or were you, y’know, dead before you met.”

“In modern cultures, I have heard it is quite rude to ask a woman her age.” Rashida joked. “If you must know, however, I was bitten by a serpent during the reign of Pharaoh Ramses the Great, approximately three thousand years ago. I believe I was around twenty-four.”

“I died about  _ two _ -thousand years ago, during the Roman conquest of Gaul.” Caoimhe tapped at a point on her chest, where her dress had been torn and then sewn up again. “Stabbed right through here. I was twenty.”

Anne shifted uncomfortably when the boys’ gazes fell to her. “Fifteen forty-two. Burned at the stake. My obituary just said, ‘Anne Patterson, heretic, temptress, witch.’ I’m still  _ bitter _ about it,” she grumbled and crossed her arms over her chest.

“ _ Patterson _ ?” Luke asked, “Are we, are we  _ related _ ?”

“Quite likely. I had five siblings, and Johnny always said he wanted to be an explorer,” Anne responded.

“Bro, you just met your, like,  _ fifteen times _ great-aunt!” Reggie bounced a little, his sadness from earlier forgotten.

“Please don’t call me that, it makes me feel old and I’m  _ eighteen _ .”

“Old maid,” Caoimhe sing-songed teasingly. 

“ _ You are four times my age you, you nerd! _ ” Anne shrieked in response.

* * *

Julie was a woman on a mission. She tied the cuffs of her sweater telepathically, otherwise needing another person to tie them for her. She attached two chains to her belt loops, one steel and one iron. She was filled with heart-thumping, single-minded determination. For what, however, she didn’t know. She styled her hair, ate breakfast, and gathered her things robotically. Barely greeting her spectral companions with a nod. And then,

She made her way to the studio.

The sun had not yet peaked over the horizon, but the piano seemed to glow. She sat down at the bench, lifted the cover. She spread the four pages of sheet music and began to play. She rocked back-and-forth with the rhythm of the song, and if she listened closely, she could hear voices harmonizing with her. Her Majik uncoiled from where it had wound in her chest, reaching out to her family, her friends, her ghosts.

As the final notes faded from the piano, Julie felt whole and at peace for the first time in a long time. She smiled and wiped the single tear from her cheek. The sunlight warmed her back and turned her hair to gold. She picked up the last piece of sheet music from the piano, and read the handwritten note in the bottom corner. She hugged it to her chest. Then, she stood up from the piano bench.

_ Clink _ .

When Julie looked down, a length of steel cord, just long enough to fit around her wrist, was on the floor. She bent over to pick it up, and just missed three pairs of feet vanishing from sight. 

The cord was nothing but a cord, all traces of Majik now gone from it. Only suitable as a strange accessory. Julie hung it from her belt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there you have it! Luke's got a great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great aunt.  
> I think Phoenix Witch would make a cool band name along with the name of a postapocalyptic goddess of death.  
> First Warped Tour was in August 1995, so Sunset Curve just missed it.  
> Like it? Hate it? Consider leaving a comment!  
> NEXT CHAPTER: "I'm not feeding your addiction." "Well, at least it's not drugs."  
> Signed,  
> BANF  
> P.S: The song Anne and Rashida sing to Julie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tKaWFHhj0B8


	12. From the ashes (I will rise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys WERE gonna be in this chapter, but Flynn and Julie got away with me.  
> Dialogue lifted from episode two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only content warning I can think of is mild mentions of scarring.   
> Enjoy!  
> Sorry this is late...consider leaving a comment?

Julie rolled up the cuffs of her sweater and took a look at her wrists. Today, she only wore Flynn’s friendship bracelet, as her lightning scars were covered by her sweater’s sleeves. As she looked at the pale lines, they glowed. At first, a light purple, then, rich gold that ran down into her veins, and then, faded back to the usual off-white.

“ _ When a soul grows, it cracks. Sometimes it cracks so much that a small part breaks off. Majik can seep through the cracks and make a soul, well, not whole, but something close to it. _ ” Anne had explained to her, once. It was true. Over the past year, Julie had been pulled between feeling utterly shattered, and being wound up too tight to even function. 

Now, she felt lighter, like the weight of the world had been shrugged off of her back. The spring in her chest was unwound, and loose, but she herself was together. Not full, but something close to it. Peaceful. She took a breath. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. The studio doors opened.

Flynn was standing by the slightly-open studio door, her hands in her jacket pockets and a determined line to her mouth. “Carlos told me you’d be out here.”

Julie looked up from her peace to Flynn, who moved across the studio to stand by the piano. “We need to talk.”

Julie furrowed her eyebrows. “Are you okay?” She asked, gathering the sheet music into one pile.

“No!” Flynn exclaimed, waving her arms wildly. “You just got kicked out of music! I’ve been all night thinking about what I was gonna say,” she rested her forearms on the piano. “Might’ve drunken seven sodas,” both Julie and Flynn winced, “but, I need to get this out.”

“I have something to tell you,” Julie began, but she was steamrolled by Flynn.

“No, it’s my turn to talk.” Julie sat back and waited. “You  _ can’t _ give up music! Your music’s like a gift, so that would be a tragedy, so you’re basically canceling Christmas, and I love Christmas!”

Julie tried again, “Flynn, I-”

“Uh-uh!” Flynn interrupted her to continue with her speech, “When we were six, we promised to be in a band together! Double Trouble!”

Julie sighed, “I never agreed to that name.”

Flynn huffed. “That’s not the point.  _ Jules _ , if you leave the music program, we’ll be apart forever! That’s just what happens! Sure, we’ll see each other in the hall sometimes, but, we’ll have different lives, make new friends!”

“That’s not true.”

“You’re right! I won’t be making  _ any _ new friends! And the only time we’ll contact each other is when we’re liking each other's posts on Instagram! Every time I’ll be hitting that little heart,  _ my  _ heart will be breaking because my best friend  _ left me, _ and” Flynn pressed a hand to her temple, “Ugh! Do you have any soda? My head hurts.”

Julie sighed, “I’m not fueling your addiction.”

Flynn cracked a small grin, “Well, at least it’s not drugs.”

They both giggled.

“Can I talk now?” Julie said and placed her hands in her lap.

“Fine,” Flynn leaned against the piano again.

“I just played the piano and sang again,” Julie said with one breath.

Flynn paused for a moment. “What!” she exclaimed in excitement, “Why didn’t you just say so!”

“I was trying, and then your  _ seven sodas _ kicked in,” Julie waved at Flynn as she spoke.

“I’m so happy for you! And  _ me _ !” The two exchanged grins, and Flynn continued, “look at you, looking all, I don’t know,  _ alive _ again!”

Julie beamed, “Right? It’s like  _ I _ drank seven sodas.”

Suddenly, Flynn changed the topic. “What made you play again?”

Julie paused, “I found this song my mom wrote for me.” She slid it over to Flynn so she could read it.

“Whoa,” Flynn breathed.

“I know,” Julie was suddenly aware of how quiet the studio was, again. Just them. “I was so afraid to play it. Anything involving music reminds me of her. And then I woke up this morning, and realized, that’s  _ exactly _ why I should play it. To keep her memory alive.” Julie rested her hand on the piano.

Flynn opened her arms. “Aww, come here,” she said.

Julie started to sink into the hug, but Flynn’s gasp stopped it. “We need to tell Mrs. Harrison you can play again so you can stay in school and my life  _ won’t _ be that sad picture I just painted for you.” Flynn gripped Julie’s wrists tighter. “My girl’s back! Double Trouble lives again!” Flynn dropped one of Julie’s hands and walked them towards the studio doors. Julie snagged the sheet music off of the piano.

“ _ Not _ our band name.”

“I have a t-shirt I gave you in seventh grade that says otherwise.”

As Julie slipped out of the studio, she noticed Luke, Reggie, and Alex in different positions against the studio doors. Reggie sat on the concrete, knees against his chest, Luke propped himself up against the door with his elbow, showing off his nice biceps, and Alex was...inspecting the lamp? Julie slowed and greeted them impossibly quietly. “Oh, hey!” 

Luke’s smile, which seemed to be ever-present on his face, grew wider. “Hi, Julie.”

Julie jogged to catch up with Flynn. She waved back to the boys as she walked. When Flynn looked at her weird, she had to pretend like she was swatting a bug.

“Don’t worry!” Reggie said, “we weren’t listening!” Luke kicked him lightly. “Ouch!”

The walk to school was light, Flynn and Julie were cheerful. Caoimhe walked beside Julie, telling Julie that Anne was with Carlos and Rashida was with Ray. They arrived even earlier than normal. Usually, Flynn would eat a second breakfast with the Molinas, and sometimes persuade Ray to drive them to school. Today, however, they walked. The sun was warm, remnants of summer just barely releasing their hold on September. 

When they got to Mrs. Harrison’s room, she was setting up sheet music on the stands around the room. When Julie told her about the events of the morning, she looked glad, but there was a tinge of disappointment in her smile.

“Believe me, Julie, I think it’s  _ wonderful _ that you sang again. I prayed for this moment for almost a year. But it’s too late.” She stopped by the piano, looking apologetic.

“But what if you just hear her play?” Flynn interjected. “You  _ know _ she’s amazing.”

“It wouldn’t matter. A new student starts tomorrow. There’s only-”

“So many spots,” Julie sighed, “And if I don’t participate, I’m out. I know.”

“I did everything I could to keep you here this year, but Principal Lessa was  _ very _ clear that yesterday was your last chance. You’ll have to reapply next semester.”

Julie looked down at her shoes and huffed out a deep breath. Unknown to her, another small crack formed. Then, the first bell rang, warning students that they had five minutes to get to their first class.

“I’m truly sorry.” Mrs. Harrison whispered as first-period band students started to trickle in through the doors. 

Flynn slung an arm around Julie’s shoulders, Caoimhe wrapped a strand around Julie's wrist, and the three left the classroom. On to Calculus for Julie and Caoimhe, and Chemistry for Flynn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I love Julie and Flynn's relationship? I Would Like To Be Their Friend Please.  
> I've got a lot of world-building notes in my brain about the use of Majik (spelled that way because I want it to be), souls, and the afterlife.  
> Ask me questions! I want to tell people about what's in my brain!  
> NEXT CHAPTER: "Now he's got me too!" "Okay, how am I the emotional one?"  
> P.S. I made a playlist for Anne! Consider giving a listen!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2MBajglqhht2ZW3T31giO2


	13. Heard, Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys spend some Quality Time at the beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was fun to write, it introduces one of my favorite characters to date.  
> However, there are some vague mentions of domestic violence surrounding Reggie's family. (yelling, alcohol, breaking plates)  
> I hope you enjoy!

“I wonder why Julie didn’t tell us she could shred on the piano,” Reggie said, as soon as they were out of earshot of Julie.  _ She was  _ super _ good. _

“She’s legit!” Reggie added, holding out his jacket-covered arm to Alex, “I got ghost bumps!” Alex smacked his arm away as another girl passed them, crying.

“Oh no. Was she crying too?” Alex whispered.

“Yes! And the only thing scarier than one girl crying is  _ two _ girls crying!” Luke squeaked in response. 

“He’s right,” Reggie agreed, thinking of Jess and Mel when their father was drunk. 

“Guys, we  _ definitely _ can’t go in there,” Luke said.

“ _ But _ , we can listen,” Reggie suggested. 

They made their way to the doors of the studio. Reggie and Luke had to stand up on their toes, and Reggie wobbled in his boots. Alex had to crouch down so he was at eye-level with the small windows. When Julie looked up, they ducked down. The other girl-Flynn’s voice could be heard through the door, but Julie’s was too quiet. Reggie, Luke, and Alex watched their short conversation-it was only about two minutes long. If Reggie was alive, his muscles would have been  _ burning _ from holding his position. Luke’s even more so. The two girls hugged, Julie’s face split open into a grin, and they made their way towards the door of the studio. That was the boys’ cue to “act natural.”

Reggie sat down on the ground, back against the studio doors and bare knees pressed close to his chest. He tapped his knees in a mid-tempo rhythm. Luke ‘casually’ leaned against the door, one large palm resting on his cheek, with the other on his hip. Alex, Reggie had to bite back a giggle at Alex's chosen pose. He was inspecting the lamp thoroughly, and it looked  _ hilarious _ . Julie noticed them.

“Oh, hey!” she whispered happily, as to not draw the attention of Flynn. 

Luke grinned  _ hugely _ back at her. “Hi, Julie,” he said, his eyes never leaving Julie, even when Reggie snickered. Luke had been making heart-eyes at her ever since she pulled a knife on him. 

Julie walked backward, arching an eyebrow. 

“Don’t worry!” Reggie put on his most reassuring “big brother” smile, “We weren’t listening!” Julie only looked at him with a  _ more _ suspicious eyebrow arch.  _ Why can some people do it while others can’t? _ Reggie thought,  _ I want to have a cool eyebrow arch! _ Luke’s kick knocked him out of his thoughts. “Ouch!”

Julie waved goodbye to them, and Reggie reciprocated. When Flynn did her  _ own _ suspicious eyebrow arch, Julie pretended to swat a bug to avoid her suspicion. Caoimhe came down from the house and shot Luke, Alex, and Reggie suspicious glares of her own. She then wrapped a tendril of braid around Julie’s wrist and whispered into her ear.

Then, they left. 

Reggie, Alex, and Luke crossed the threshold into the studio. Reggie said, again, “I wonder why Julie didn’t tell us she could shred on the piano?” 

“And  _ sing _ ! That girl can sing!” Luke squeaked excitedly, pointing into the studio at the piano. 

“It probably has something to do with her mom, you know?” Alex suggested. “Must’ve been hard.” He moved across the studio and up into the loft, where they had kept many of their possessions when they were alive. “Anyway, I really feel for her.” 

“Yeah,” Luke breathed, “but, now she’s got music back in her life, just like us!” He leaned over the piano. 

Alex leaned out from the loft, hands on the railings. “Yeah, I’m not sure you can call what we have a  _ life _ .” Reggie grudgingly agreed. 

“Oh, hey!” Alex called suddenly, “Some of the clothes we left behind are still up here!” He chuckled and tossed down Luke’s garbage bag and Reggie’s backpack. Reggie caught his backpack, but Luke’s bag thudded to the floor. 

“Sweet!” Luke dove for his clothes, already stripping off his cutoff jacket. He groaned. “Oh, same clothes since  _ ninety-five _ , boys!” He took a whiff of his shirt and started to dig through his bag. Reggie grinned at his friend’s theatrical complaining. 

The studio door opened behind them. Reggie didn’t notice they had company until a man  _ walked through _ him. All of a sudden, Reggie felt the bitter taste of prolonged grief and splintering sadness, but also parental love and overwhelming  _ joy _ . The man in question was greying, but his face was younger than expected. He had a high-quality looking camera in both hands.

“Whoa,” Reggie breathed, “that was  _ weird _ . But, somehow, I can tell that this man,” Reggie pointed at him, “has a kind heart.” 

The man spoke suddenly, “So how’ve you been,” all in one breath.

Reggie, not one to be impolite, and also maybe assuming that he could  _ also _ see Reggie, responded. “Honestly? Not that good. You see, we ate these bad-well poisoned, actually- hotdogs-”

“Julie sang again for the first time this morning,” the man said, softly, with a small smile on his face. “She hadn’t done that in almost a year.  _ Ay _ ! You would’ve loved it.” 

“Yeah, we saw ‘cause we were-” Realization struck. “Oh!” The shutter of the camera clicked. Reggie waved his arm in front of the man’s eyes. No response. “He, he’s not talking to us.” He explained to Alex and Luke. 

“You are  _ so lucky _ you can play bass,” Luke snorted from the floor. 

_ I would never make it in a retail job _ , thought Reggie.

The man moved around the studio, taking photos of the loft, the plants, the piano.

“Pretty sure he’s talking to Julie’s mom,” Alex called out.

“She’s such an  _ amazing  _ young woman,” he choked out, sniffing as his eyes filled with tears, “every day, she reminds me  _ más y más de ti _ ,”

Alex grinned from his perch, “Called it!”

The man paused as if he was listening to an invisible person talk. “Oh, I’m taking photos for the real estate website.” He trailed off, “I really,  _ really _ don’t want to move but,” Reggie, Luke, and Alex gathered across from the piano, watching him. “I guess it’s best for Julie.” 

“Move?” Luke asked, unbelieving. 

Julie’s dad sat at the piano bench and rubbed his hands over the smooth brown wood. “There’s so many memories,” he covered his eyes with a hand, “Of Julie playing next to you, and  _ Carlos _ ,” a sob turned into a chuckle, “ _ Carlitos _ , trying to sing with his two front teeth missing.” He turned his head skyward and grinned. 

Luke breathed shakily, bringing a hand to cover his mouth. Reggie sighed, “Oh, no, Luke, not you too!” Luke muffled his sobs with his hand. 

“He's talkin’ about moving but the  _ poor guy _ , he doesn’t wanna move!” Luke waved his hand at Julie’s dad, who was standing to take a picture of the view from behind the piano. 

“It’s like they grew up,” he waved a hand around the studio, “out here.”

Reggie felt tears burning his eyes, messing with his liner. “Oh man,” Reggie fanned at his eyes, “now he’s got me too!” 

“Okay, how am  _ I _ the emotional one?” Alex asked, an exasperated huff in his voice.

Suddenly, Reggie missed his sisters. Jenny, Mel, and Jess would be all grown up by now. “C-could we go see my family? See how they’re doing?” He asked, wiping away his tears. 

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, “listening to this feels...wrong.”

Julie's dad was grinning widely, “ _ ¿Recuerdas cuando los niños fueron a la casa de tu hermana, y vinimos aquí en nuestro aniversario? _ ”He spoke in Spanish, and his smile grew ever-fonder.

“Yeah, no,” Luke shifted uncomfortably, “ _ definitely _ wrong!” He vanished.

Reggie agreed and also vanished. He reappeared on the beach where his small house was.

Driftwood logs were used as benches, the volleyball net had been replaced, and there were no more houses on the boardwalk. Where Reggie’s house once stood, there was “A bike shack.  _ Right _ where my house used to be.  _ Right here _ .” His shoulders slumped. Sad, but also, relieved. No more screaming matches, empty bottles, or broken plates. A new slate for that little bit of property.

“Yeah,” Luke’s voice was quiet, “I’m sorry man.” He patted Reggie on the chest, two thumps that brought him back again.

“They made the Meyersons’ house into a noodle shop,” Reggie observed, “why couldn’t they have made mine into a  _ pizzeria _ or something?”

“They tore down the whole neighborhood,” Alex sounded surprised as he waved his hand at the small mall.

“I guess my folks are gone,” Reggie said, quietly.

“No,  _ everyone’s _ gone,” Alex stuffed his hands into his pockets, “ _ Twenty-five years _ , gone! Friends, family,  _ Bobby _ , everyone!” 

Reggie crossed his arms over his chest. Luke sat down on a large tree. “Bobby, that’s right. I guess that vegetarian lucked out.” Reggie realized, “What do you think happened to him?”

“He probably just got old like everyone else and moved on,” Luke’s voice was bitter, acidic.

“Dude,” Alex asked, “how are you so  _ casual _ about all of this? I mean, don’t you wanna figure out what happened?”

“Well, let’s be  _ real _ for a second, okay?” Luke raised his voice. “It’s not like any of us were that close to our families. Hell, my folks always regretted buying me that guitar.” He scoffed, “Reggie,  _ your _ parents were literally  _ one fight _ away from a divorce!” Reggie looked away. He didn’t want to think about it. “Alex! I-your parents were  _ never _ cool again after you told them you were gay!”

“Okay,” Alex’s voice was steady but firm, “none of us had it great, all right? But at least we had  _ something _ !” His voice cracked, “You know, what do we have now?” Reggie nodded. Alex continued, “And before you say ‘cool teleportation skills’ just know that I’m not  _ entirely _ okay with that, either! All right? It  _ tingles _ !” Alex paused, gesturing at himself, “In  _ weird _ places!” He huffed and turned to face the ocean.

“I’ll tell you what we had,” Luke stood up from his log. “It’s what we’ve had,” He jumped back up on the log, “since the  _ day _ we came together.” He spread his arms out like he was making a speech. “Boys, we have  _ us _ . We’re the only family we’re ever gonna need. You know what else we have?”

“I’m gonna guess  _ death breath _ ,” Reggie sassed.

Luke giggled, “Our music, you  _ dork _ !” He called, louder “We have our music, you guys! People,  _ actual people _ can hear us play! They can’t see us?  _ Fine _ ! But they can feel us!” Luke waved, “If I had my guitar, I-I’d play for  _ all _ these people,  _ right now _ . Just like what we used to do down at the pier.” 

“They can’t tip what they can’t see,” Alex scoffed.

“It’s not about the  _ tips _ , Alex,” Luke hopped down from his log to look Alex in the eyes. “It’s about connecting with people, making a difference in their day!” Luke stepped back towards the log. “I just...I wish I had my guitar,” And with a discordant note, Luke spun, and the guitar appeared in his hands.

_ Whoa _ . “Whoa! That-that was rad! How’d you do that?” Reggie asked, pointing at the guitar in Luke’s hands in bewilderment.

“I-I-I don’t know!” Luke looked just as weirded out as Reggie felt. “I-I just wished for it, and it came, in my hands-”

“I-I-I wish I had a puppy!” Reggie interrupted, wishing for anything that popped into his mind. “A hamster? Pizza?” Reggie waved his hands in front of him.

A  _ BOOF _ came from behind him. When Reggie turned around, there was a dog.

It was a large dog, with brown-and-black fur, golden eyes, a droopy, squared face, and the biggest standing-up ears he had ever seen. It’s wiry tail was kicking up lots of sand from the speed that it was wagging. It’s face looked like it was smiling, a long tongue hanging out of its mouth. Reggie squealed. He couldn’t help it!

Reggie immediately started to pet the dog and sweet-talk it, in the baby voice only used on dogs and small children. “Hey good dog! Hello! Where’d you come from? What's your name?” The dog wiggled with excitement at being pet, but lifted its head to show a reddish collar with a black tag that clearly read “BEE (female)”.

“Hi, Bee! Are you a good girl? Yes, yes you are a good girl!” Bee boofed again and licked Reggie’s face and fell into a play bow, but straightened. “What’s up, Bee-girl? Do you wanna  _ play _ ?” Bee pricked up her  _ adorable _ ears, folded over at the tops, and howled. Then, she disappeared with a  _ woosh _ .

Reggie’s disappointment was  _ immeasurable _ . His day was ruined further. He pouted. Luke grinned.

“Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up,” Luke began to play a familiar chord progression, the first song for the band that Reggie wrote. Alex took up a place beside Luke.

“Come on,  _ Reginald _ ,” he said as he began to pat his chest and thighs, forming a beat. Reggie stood up and began to sing.

“Can you, can you hear me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bee is based on one of my dog's friends, she is a Very Good Girl (Bee is a bloodhound/pitbull mix btw)  
> Consider leaving a comment or Kudos!  
> Have a good week!  
> -BANF  
> P.S: Yor weekly song req: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vx-oLkW5vv0


	14. Cut Through the Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie attempts to set something on fire, and it is safe to say she will do so multiple times over the course of this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sorry! I took a break because school's been overloading me with work, and my sleep schedule's bonkers.  
> Some mentions of blood and fire in this chapter.  
> Caoimhe, sweetie, I'm sorry for using you just for plot info.  
> A height chart that no one asked for:  
> Caoimhe: 5'2"  
> Flynn: 5'3"  
> Julie: 5'4"  
> Carrie: 5'6"  
> Luke: 5'7"  
> Reggie: 5'7.5" (He's very proud of it, Luke is bitter)  
> Anne: 5'8"  
> Nick: 5'9"  
> Alex: 5'10"  
> Rashida: 6'0"

When Julie got home from school that day, all she wanted to do was collapse onto her bed. Her head was spinning from having calculus  _ and _ chemistry on the same day. She dropped her backpack on the floor with a clunk and looked up from her shoes. To her surprise, Luke was standing on her chair, Alex was messing with a picture on her desk, and Reggie was...making bed angels? Julie kicked her door shut. Her eye twitched. Behind her, Caoimhe crossed her arms and scowled. 

“ _ What _ ,” Julie ground out, “are you guys doing in my room?”

The trio snapped their heads up and gave matching noises of ‘what’s-our-cover-story-we-didn't-expect-to-be-caught’. Luke, after a moment of deliberation, said, “We were looking for the kitchen?” with a guilty look on his face. Reggie snapped and pointed in agreement. 

“Bullshit,” Caoimhe scoffed, tendrils of hair creeping towards the trio’s ankles, “tell us the truth.”

“Caoimhe, I think I can handle them,” said Julie, settling into a firm stance, shoulders back and chin up. Caoimhe stepped back, but her expression did not lighten in the slightest. 

Julie turned to the boys and snapped, “This,” she waved towards the various positions in her room the three occupied, “ _ this _ , is not happening. It’s  _ creepy _ .” She flicked her wrist towards Reggie, “get off my bed,  _ please _ .”

Reggie scrambled to get off of her bed. Luke raised his hand like he was in school, “Hey Julie,” he pointed towards her dream box, “what’s in the box?”

“That’s off-limits,” Julie said, quietly wishing for him to try and touch it, so he could find out what happened if he pushed her boundaries too far.

“Oh, okay,” Luke giggled, “girl stuff,” he sing-songed. Julie crossed her arms, unimpressed.

“ _ Oh _ , like butterflies and glitter?” Reggie asked, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Oh,  _ come on _ ,” Alex said, exasperated, “I’m sorry about them.”

Caoimhe pointed her finger and put a hand on her hip like Tía, “Don’t think you’re getting off easier,  _ balach _ .” Alex put his hands up defensively. 

“It’s none of your business,” Julie sighed, “and  _ yes _ , there might be  _ some _ glitter.” She could practically  _ hear _ Reggie thinking ‘ _ called it’ _ . 

Alex had returned to messing with Julie’s photograph, letting out a triumphant giggle “Hey! I actually picked something up!” He carried it to her bed to show Luke and Reggie. It  _ thudded _ onto her flower-patterned bedspread. Dejectedly, he added, “I dropped it.” Julie sighed again.

Luke leaned over to take a look. The picture of a younger Julie and Rose in a field of pink dahlias, Rose smooching Julie’s cheek. “Is that your mom?” He asked.

“Yes, and it’s my favorite picture of us,” Julie snatched the frame, “so if you break it, I’ll break you.” She threatened, and put the picture on the nightstand on the other side of the bed.

“Okay, well, sorry, but we’re kind of unbreakable at this point.” Alex deadpanned.

Julie flicked her hand and sent a puff of flame towards him, sparking orange and just powerful enough to singe the front side of his hair. He shrieked in surprise and jumped back. “Try me,” Julie smiled sarcastically. Then, she thought ‘ _ why can they pick up their stuff but not other things? Rashida  _ cooks actual food _ but Alex can’t even pick up a picture? _ ’ as Alex babbled about fire. Out loud, she said, “I don’t get it. You guys can mess up my bed, pick up your instruments, but you can’t pick up other stuff? I mean, Rashida, Caoimhe, and Anne have always been able to mess with stuff.”

“I know, right? It’s hard.” Luke said, his brows furrowed. “But, for some reason,” he turned towards Alex, “Our instruments? Easy.” Alex nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” Reggie chimed in, “like,  _ super _ easy. Oh,” He stood up from the cushioned stool he was sitting on, “check out what I learned today!” He opened his arms, and his cherry-red bass dropped and smacked him in the chest, bowling him back onto the cushion. He wheezed as his breath was knocked out of him.

“Yeah, that looked  _ super _ easy,” Julie sassed. Reggie groaned. 

“We aren’t the best benchmark for average ghost power,” Caoimhe butted in, “One, we’re all  _ much _ older than these three. In spirit terms, they’re the newest to ghosthood you can be. Plus, we’re coven-bound, which increases our power exponentially. New ghosts start out only being able to interact with the objects they cared for in life, like heirlooms, favorite books or journals, and,” she jerked her head towards Reggie, “ _ instruments _ .”

“It’s like I always thought!” Luke grinned, “Our instruments are attached to our souls!” Julie thought he was being a dork, but a dork with a nice smile. She shook her head.  _ Not now, brain _ .

A knock on Julie’s bedroom door interrupted her thoughts. Her dad opened the door and peeked his head through. Politely, Caoimhe moved out of the way, so Julie could look her dad in the eyes. “Hey,” he begins, softly, “ _ ¿todo bien aquí? _ ”

“Yeah,” Julie lied, “I’m fine.”

“Okay, thought I heard you talking to someone,” Her dad adjusted his grip on Julie’s door.

“Nope,” Julie denied, “must’ve been my laptop,” Julie looked over, her laptop on but closed. “That I just closed,” she trailed off.

Her dad chuckled. He clearly didn’t believe her, but Julie trusted him not to push. “Okay. If you need anything,” He trailed off awkwardly and gestured to the door. 

“Yeah. Thanks.” Julie smiled a bit as her dad closed the door. As soon as he was gone, her smile dropped and she raised her hands to rub at her temples. 

Out of the blue, Reggie said, “Your dad seems like the kinda guy who likes to barbecue. I bet he has a  _ great _ ribs recipe.”

“He’s more of a baker, actually. But if you guys want to talk to me, we  _ have _ to do it in the studio. He’s worried about me enough as it is.” Julie’s dad had been the one to take her to multiple therapists, sat with her when she couldn’t get out of bed, and brushed her hair when the thought of doing it herself made her cry. She couldn’t have him think she was hallucinating or talking to the air.

“He seems chill, you should just tell him about us,” Luke suggested.

“You’re kidding, right? ‘Hey dad, we’ve got six ghosts in our house.’” She mocked. Luke’s face fell. “This whole year, everyone’s been watching over me, being super careful, as if they’re  _ waiting _ for me to snap! If I tell my dad I see ghosts, I’ll be back to talking to Dr. Turner  _ three _ days a week.”

“Not even considering the fact that Rashida, Anne, and I have been around here since Julie was  _ born _ . Would we even tell him about how we follow them around and do  _ chores _ and stuff?” Caoimhe interjected.

Luke clicked his tongue, “Yeah, you probably shouldn’t tell him.” Then he turns and steps on her other cushion cube, up to the shelf where she kept her dream box, Sam (her plant), and a few other knick-knacks. “Julie,” he whined.

“Oh my gosh! I told you to leave that alone!” She exclaimed.

“I know, you just should’ve said  _ nothing _ because now I can’t stop thinking about it! So,” he gestured toward the dream box, a sheepish smile on his face, “what’s in the box, Julie?”

Against her better judgment, she told him, “It’s just my dream box, okay?” Luke still looked confused, so she told him more, “Whenever I get a thought or vision or something, I write it down and get it out of my mind.”

“Like lyrics?” Luke asked.

Julie’s lashes fluttered, “They  _ would _ be if I still wrote music, like I did with my mom.” Her shoulders slumped, and she looked down towards her shoes. “Now it’s just full of stuff that doesn’t make me sad.”

Alex stood up from the window loft. “ But, I mean, you  _ do _ play. We heard you this morning.”

Julie’s mood shifted from sad to ticked off. “In the garage?” She demanded.

Luke stepped down and smacked Alex on the shoulder with a soft “Dude!”

Julie turns her ire onto Luke. “So you were there too!” She shouted.

Alex and Reggie launched into stuttered, incoherent excuses. Luke flopped onto Julie’s bed, rested his cheek in one large hand, and looked up at her with big puppy-dog eyes. “So where is your kitchen, by the way?” He asked, clearly trying to distract her.

Julie smiled sardonically. “Okay, we need to set some boundaries.” Luke’s sweet smile stretched wider. “For starters,  _ stay out of my room _ !” She cried, pointing towards the door. The boys rushed to give affirmations, Luke knocked a pillow off of her bed in his haste to get up. They passed through her door, Reggie strummed his bass as he left. Julie huffed a sigh and summoned her grimoire. She traced the warding sigil on the front. The design was somewhat complicated, an arrow bisecting an eye, with extra lines and dots. Julie then debated carving it versus simply drawing it on her door. Alex’s head popped through her door before she could come to a decision. 

“Hey!” He said. When Julie looked over at him, he continued. “Um, sorry, didn’t mean to bother you. Did you get back into your music program?” He asked.

“No. No, I didn’t.” Julie sighed.

Alex’s face softened. “I’m sorry. That, that really sucks.”

“Thanks,” Julie replied, bluntly. Silence fell for a few moments. Julie’s head began to throb. Fighting through the pain, she said “Is that it?” She didn’t want to be rude, but her headache was growing by the second.

“Yeah! Yeah,” Alex grew quieter, “This is getting weird,” He trailed off. Julie waved at him. He slipped out the doorway.

Julie collapsed onto her bed and closed her eyes. A vision hit her. 

Jazzy swing music.

Flashes of light.

Dogs howling

Heat on her face.

Electricity.

Smoke.

Panic.

Red flowers.

A grin, too wide to be normal.

Cold metal against skin.

Hairs standing on end.

_ This is wrong, help me, this is wrong. _

A ring of white cloth, soaked in incense, inscribed with runes.

Something cutting into her lip.

Blood on her tongue.

Sharp, jagged fingernails.

More smoke.

Gold, dancing between her fingers.

Wide, ice-blue,  _ terrified _ , eyes.

Overlapping voices, screaming.

_ Help me, Julie _ .

_ It’s not me, don’t listen! _

_ Give him to us! _

Salty tears ran down her cheeks as she awoke with a gasp. Caoimhe was standing over her, pressing a cold cloth to her forehead.

“How long was-”

“Two hours. It's almost dinnertime. You should put some patches over your eyes. They’re very puffy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Balach-"Boy" in Scottish Gaelic, the closest thing I could find to Gaulic.  
> Todo bien aquí?- Everything good here? in Spanish  
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! Let me know if you catch any errors!  
> -BANF  
> P.S: I listen to more than just The Oh Hellos: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OgTBSJc_JwU


	15. Sand in the Hourglass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie makes a list and checks things off of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, again!  
> Update schedule who? I don't know her.  
> Anyway, leave Kudos or a comment, I really appreciate them!  
> Enjoy!

In the end, Julie did not get to dinner. After Caoimhe left, presumably to inform Rashida and Anne of her vision, Julie pulled out a small, spiral-bound notebook. She had to get her thoughts organized, as the vision had left them a jumbled mess. After writing down and sketching fragments of the vision, she decided to make a list. Dr. Turner had suggested she make things into lists, break them down into bite-sized pieces so she could do them one at a time. So far, she had gotten a few things down:

TODO:

  1. Play the piano and sing more
  2. Get back into the music program, somehow
  3. Start up sword fighting lessons again?
  4. Get incense, charcoal pencils
  5. Research warding sigils
  6. Try making lightning again



After all that had happened, Julie didn’t want to deal with the rest of her family. Her headache had faded after her vision, but there was still a dull throb from the back of her skull. No matter how much she loved Carlos, she probably couldn’t stand to hear him scrape his metal knife against a ceramic plate. Which he would. If only to make her pissed off. 

Julie tucked her hair into a ponytail at the back of her head, retying it multiple times to get all of the strands of hair out of her face. Then, she dug through her closet for a loose pair of black pants. Carrie would call them a crime against fashion.  _ They don’t go with anything! _ But Julie didn’t need them to be  _ fashionable _ , she just needed to be able to move. Julie exchanged her sweater for a tee-shirt and took off her bracelets and necklaces. Suitably dressed for her activities, she froze. Reaching her senses beyond the confines of her body, she heard her brother listening to a video about...a demon bridge? She could also hear the gurgling of water through pipes, and Tía Victoria’s bustling was absent, although there was a quiet hum coming from the kitchen.

Satisfied that her family would not see her and ask questions, she made her way downstairs to get a small snack before she headed to the Clearing. But, as she walked softly down the stairs, she noticed Luke standing in front of the  _ open _ refrigerator. 

“You  _ do _ know you can’t eat, right?” Julie questioned, standing behind him.

“Yeah,” Luke pouted, “I jus’ wanna see whatcha got.”

Julie sighed and closed the door. Luke immediately squawked in protest.

“Hey! You know how long it took me to open that?”

“You’re letting out all the cold air, and I don’t believe in wasting power,” Julie grabbed two slices of bread and unscrewed the lids of the sunbutter and the jam.

“Good! ‘Cause that’s what I want to talk to you about.” Luke leaned against the countertop.

Julie didn’t follow. She wrinkled her brows in confusion. “Our...power usage?”

“No,” Luke looked her up and down, and his pupils widened, “the power that _you_ have.” His voice got softer when Julie made eye contact with him. “Your _voice_ , your piano playing? Dude, you’re like a human _wrecking ball_!”  
Julie chuckled at the use of the word _dude_. Not one she normally heard addressed to her. “Is this supposed to be a pep talk?” 

“What I’m saying is that you have the power to move people. To-to knock them off their feet.” He picked up again. “There is  _ no way _ your teachers wouldn’t let you back into school if they heard you play like that!” His arms waved wildly.

Julie picked up her knife and scooped some of the sunbutter onto it. “I asked her, and she said that I have to wait until next semester.” Julie was already frustrated with the topic.

“That was your first mistake,” Luke scoffed, “ _ asking _ .” As he hopped to sit on the other countertop, his wallet chain rattled with a nice clinking sound. Julie flicked her head. Luke continued, “Sunset Curve booked gigs by  _ doing _ .” She could hear the smile in his voice when he talked about his band. “We went into  _ ambush mode _ . We played in  _ front _ of clubs, we played in  _ back _ of clubs, we even played  _ book clubs _ !”

Julie stopped digging in the jam jar for a second. “ _ Book clubs _ ?” She asked in disbelief. Luke’s dorky smile had made a reappearance, showing off his dimples.

“Yeah,” Luke said, sheepishly, “we didn’t get too many gigs out of  _ that one _ , but they did have some  _ gnarly  _ snacks!”

The corners of Julie’s mouth twitched up.  _ You stop that, face _ . She returned to finishing her sandwich. 

“I’m just sayin’,” Luke paused, before picking up momentum and kicking his legs out, “swing that wrecking ball of talent at your teacher’s heads, and  _ smash _ those  _ stupid _ rules outta their brains!” He looked giddy with the violent metaphors.

“This isn’t a club, it’s a  _ school _ ,” Julie reminded him, “and your plan sounds  _ violent _ .” She opened a cabinet to get a glass for the orange juice she planned on drinking.

“It’s a closed door,” Luke’s voice was muffled, then clear as he stuck his head  _ through _ the door of the cabinet, “And you gotta bust it open!”

Julie scoffed at his antics, quite similar to Anne’s, but significantly less surprising. He followed her across the kitchen when she went to open the door of the refrigerator for orange juice.

“Sorry, once I start with the metaphors, I can’t stop,” Luke apologized, not seeming very apologetic. “I learned  _ that  _ in book club.” Julie rolled her eyes where she knew he couldn’t see them.

“They’re not just gonna let me back in.” Julie turned and walked away from the refrigerator,  _ through _ Luke. She stopped short. From him, she felt excitement, a tiny hint of fear, softened by something...softer. She couldn’t describe it more than that. Something tugged her back a half-step towards him.

They looked at each other and giggled a bit. “If getting back into music is what you want, then you gotta  _ go for it _ .” Julie picked up her sandwich. “Your tainted hotdog?  _ Could be right around the corner _ ,” he whispered. Julie put down the sandwich,  _ suddenly _ not hungry anymore.

She sighed, again.  _ Counterargument _ , “I don’t even have anything prepared,” she protested.

Luke grinned, pulling a piece of paper seemingly out of nowhere. “Thought you’d say that,”  _ Dammit _ . “It’s called ‘Bright,’ it’s a Sunset Curve song I wrote that we never got to record.” He spread the paper on the cutting board,  _ right next to the knife _ . “But, it’s  _ perfect _ for you-r vocal range. Oh, and check out the chorus for a second. If you add a bit of piano, I’m telling you…” he trailed off and then began to sing.

“ _ Your eyes, through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together. Bright forever. _ ” He did have a nice voice, a good companion for Julie’s. In the next section, she joined in.

“ _ And rise, through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together _ .”

“Oh, go up high!”

“ _ Bright forev-er _ ,” They harmonized. Julie couldn’t hold back the smile that crinkled her eyes and squished her cheeks, and neither could Luke.  _ Get numbers one and two squared away _ .

“Yes!” Luke dissolved into giggles, smiling widely at her.

“Thanks,” Julie softened, making eye contact with Luke again. They stood there for a few seconds, just basking in each other’s presence when Luke spoke up again after looking her up and down again. 

“Hey, why’re you dressed like that?” Luke asked, “Not that I’m complaining! You look..nice.”

Julie realized  _ why _ she had come down into the kitchen in the first place, and realized Rashida would be waiting for her in the Clearing. She smacked herself in the forehead. ”Oh, no! Completely forgot! I’ve got lessons tonight!”

“Lessons? What lessons?”

Julie was already late, the moon was nearly full-risen. “I’ll tell you later! Gotta go, bye!” She stepped forward and into the Clearing, disappearing from her kitchen entirely, leaving behind an  _ incredibly _ confused Luke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this!  
> Quick question: Had Julie and The Phantoms made it to the dance on time, what songs would you think they would've played? Leave your suggestions in the comment box!  
> -BANF  
> P.S: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qxIbVODO_Ck


	16. Iron Over Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha sword fighting and emotional talks go brrr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy, how's it going???  
> Guess who got her computer taken away and still managed to write this chapter at three in the morning?  
> This gal!  
> A falcata is a curved, single-edged sword weighted like an axe, you get more momentum on the downswing, and can be quite light.  
> A khopesh is hooked, often used to disarm an enemy's sword, shield, or limbs.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

When Julie’s vision cleared, Rashida was waiting for her. She sat almost casually on the rock pillar smack-dab in the center, awash with silver moonlight. She had pulled her shoulder-length braids back from her face, removed her jewelry and headdress, and her normal yellow tunic-dress had been replaced with a leather breastplate and a pleated, spartan-esque skirt. From her hip, a hooked sword hung. Across her chest was a holster full of small, curved knives, perfect for throwing. She uncrossed her booted ankles, sat up from her waiting position, and glanced at Julie.

“You seem to have misplaced some of your supplies, little new moon,” Rashida giggled, rocking side to side.

Julie looked down. No shoes, no sword, and no armor. Julie huffed out a groan, which sent Rashida into a giggling fit. “ _ How  _ did I forget my  _ shoes _ of all things?” Julie complained. Then, she took a deep, fortifying breath. A  _ pop _ , and her feet were in a pair of indoor soccer shoes, grippy but allowing freedom of movement. A  _ tug _ , and her own leather breastplate, similar to Rashida’s, was loosely fastened over her tee-shirt. 

“We do not have the whole night,” called Rashida, before teleporting to behind Julie to fasten the shoulder straps of her armor. Concern laced her voice, “You are  _ never _ late, is something wrong?” 

Julie snorted, “What? No,” she brushed aside her sudden flush and nervousness, “no, everything’s fine. I, just got caught up talking with Luke!”

“Oh,  _ Luke _ ?” Rashida asked, stepping out from behind Julie, “Annie’s fifteen-times grandnephew?” 

Julie processed for a moment.  _ Rashida just gave Anne a nickname _ . Rashida seemed to realize what she had said, as her eyes bugged out and shut her jaw with an audible  _ click _ . “ _ Annie _ ?” Julie asked, half-joking.

“You forgot your shoes because you were talking to  _ a boy _ ?” Rashida shot back, one eyebrow arched, hands crossed over her waist.

Julie felt her  _ own _ face get hotter, and the tips of her ears were  _ on fire _ . “I, um, ah, I won’t tell if you don’t!” She offered.

Rashida stepped back a few feet, “If you last against me for seven minutes,” she unsheathed her khopesh, “Then we have a deal.”

Julie summoned her own sword, the falcata she had gotten for her fourteenth birthday. Its weight felt familiar, like relearning how to ride a bike after a bad fall. The curved handle wrapped around her hand like it was made for her. Rashida summoned a stopwatch. 

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah, let’s do this!”

Rashida’s whole demeanor changed when she fought. The aura of  _ dangerdangerdanger _ that floated around Rashida like a mist multiplied and condensed into storm clouds. Even not in full effect, it still made Julie want to drop her sword and run away. Her face became a mask, no emotions bared as she charged. Always flowing, moving erratically, teleporting on a whim. Switching her weapons from a khopesh to knives to a  _ katana _ . Only a lifetime of training with Rashida allowed Julie to follow her movements enough to  _ evade, block, parry _ . The best “hits” that Julie got in were when Rashida was between weapons. “Hits” was a loose term, all of Julie’s strikes simply passed through her body. Though her body was incorporeal, her steel most  _ definitely _ wasn’t. Their swords created sparks when they clashed at the right angle as they darted throughout the Clearing. 

Eventually, Julie somehow managed to teleport onto the large pillar in the center. Rashida, from the other side of the Clearing, took a running start and leaped like a lion down onto the pillar, a knife gripped in her hand. Julie barely managed to dodge before it cut open her lip.

But in dodging, she lost her balance on the edge of the pillar and slipped towards the ground. Instinctively, she teleported herself to the soft ground, falling a few inches rather than twelve feet. She landed with an  _ oof _ as her breath rushed out of her lungs. Above her, Rashida looked down. Two of her braids had escaped the tie and dangled down as Rashida peered over the precipice. 

“Are you alright, little new moon?” 

It took Julie several minutes to respond. She gasped for breath.  _ Lucky spirits, they don’t need to breathe to speak,  _ Julie thought. Her brow furrowed in jealousy. Julie coughed, then whispered, “How long did I make it?”

Rashida checked the stopwatch. “Seven minutes and one-point-forty-four seconds exactly! Your secret stays safe!”

Julie flopped over and pushed herself up on shaking arms. Her falcata, which she had tossed away during the fall, was stuck at an angle in the soft ground. When Julie grabbed at the hilt, it came out easily. “Are we gonna  _ talk _ about our secrets?”

Rashida sighed. “I suppose there is no getting around it.” She swung her legs over the side of the pillar and patted the area next to her, signaling for Julie to come up. Julie took in the height of the pillar, and  _ pulled _ the stone bricks out of alignment to create a spiral staircase. She climbed it to sit next to Rashida, laying her sword beside her. They both looked to the crescent moon. The only sound for a few minutes was the chirps of the crickets. 

“So, Anne?” Julie prompted. 

“I first heard of her three centuries ago. The places she had gone, the things she had done, the people she befriended and helped to cross over, her powers.” Rashida sighed and hunched her shoulders inward. “I was curious, but also lonely. I focused only on hunting down soul-snatchers out of revenge for my family. I barely  _ saw _ Caoimhe that century, and I am certain she was devouring all she could from the libraries at Harvard. You know how she is.” Julie and Rashida grinned at each other. Rashida continued, her shoulders losing tension. “So, I tracked down Anne. We talked, and I realized she could make me laugh. She never used any sort of illusion to mask her burns, and I thought that it was brave. She is always true to herself, and that is something I admire. As I spent more time with her, my feelings grew from simple  _ admiration _ to,” Rashida paused, a soft smile on her face, “ _ Love _ . I hadn’t felt it in a very long time. I, I do love her.”

Julie chuckled softly. “You’ve got this whole big confession, and I just think Luke’s got a nice smile and a good voice.”

“Is that really it?”

“Well, he's  _ passionate _ and wants to help me get back into the music program,” Julie added, stifling a yawn. 

“What is your plan?”

“I’ll perform a song for Principal Lessa tomorrow at the spirit rally. He wrote it. It’s called  _ Bright _ .”

“Do you want all of us to be there? A bit of extra support is always good.”

“Yeah. I’d like tha-” Julie cut herself off with another large yawn. When she opened her eyes, she was sitting on the edge of her bed, Rashida beside her.

“Goodnight, little new moon. Our secrets stay between us.” Rashida passed her hand through Julie’s head, before stepping out of the room so Julie could get ready for bed.

As Julie went through her nightly routine, she couldn’t help but hum and sing  _ Bright _ ’s lyrics softly.

_ And rise, through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact Anne and Rashida's characters both sprang from the thought that JATP needed a lesbian ghost romance to complete the trinity of ghost relationships. And now they're here.  
> Let me know what you think in the comments!  
> -BANF  
> P.S: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_EzjEGiJ8_g


	17. Threads Connect (Across TIme, Across Space)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghostly Anne-tics and the gang gets to boogie and have more unrealized feelings!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Approaches awkwardly, chapter in hand*  
> Heyy, how y'all doin'?  
> I feel guilty about missing last week's update, have this I guess?  
> Anyway, enjoy!  
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!

Loud, discordant notes blared from a singular trumpet in Ms. Harrison’s classroom, instead of the cacophony of instruments and voices Julie was expecting. Flynn sat with her feet propped up on another chair. No one else was in the room.  _ Is something going on? A field trip they didn’t tell me about? _ Julie thought, furrowing her brows.

“What are you doing, and where is everyone?” She asked Flynn, looking around the classroom.

Flynn sighed, “Spirit assembly.”  _ Oh, Carrie was performing at that. Right. _ “I was kinda blowing it off because I wasn’t feeling very...spirit-y,” Flynn deadpanned and gestured with her (probably “borrowed”) trumpet.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m  _ always _ feeling spirit-y,” Anne giggled in Julie’s ear, and she had to force down a grin, which instead made her grimace.

Flynn noticed her expression and sat up properly. “You okay?”

After a deep breath, Julie answered somewhat-honestly. “Not really. I had this new plan to play for Ms. Harrison, hoping she’d let me back in, but...guess I missed my chance.” She moved her eyes away from Flynn, focusing on a tile on the floor.

Flynn’s eyes lit up. Her ‘idea face’ was on. This time, hopefully, they wouldn’t cause  _ too _ many people to be mad at them. “No,” she said, setting down the trumpet, “you didn’t.” Then, she trotted over to Julie, wrapped her arm around Julie’s shoulders, and walked her to the gym. Julie could hear the beat of Carrie’s song pulsing through the walls of the school. They make it just in time to see Carrie begin her routine.

The gym was filled with flashing lights, students danced in their spots on the bleachers, cheering and whooping. The dancers rolled, spun, and kicked as Carrie sang.

“Look who spent all her daddy’s money on costumes and Katy Perry’s choreographer,” Flynn snarked, her voice higher pitched than normal.

Grudgingly, Julie admired the performance. “Well, it paid off,” she stuck her hands in the pockets of her jumpsuit, not wanting to twitch and wring them nervously. 

Anne pulled her arms back from around Rashida and Caoimhe. “You know, I just had a great idea,” her voice lilted mischievously.  _ Oh, no _ .

“Anne, please, not again,” Rashida sighed.

“No, no, let her! I want to see how they react!” Caoimhe exclaimed.

“Come  _ on _ , Raz,  _ please _ ?” Anne grabbed on to Rashida’s arm, looked her in the eyes, and pouted, “Just a little bit? It’ll be funny!”

Rashida bit her lip, but made no move to pull her arm away. “Fine. Only a little.”

Anne giggled victoriously, then disappeared from Rashida’s side with a wink. She reappeared where Dirty Candi was dancing, right in front of where Red needed to step. Anne passed through her, causing Red to shudder. On the next turn, she tugged on her wig and caused her to stumble, and Red fell a half-step out of time with the other dancers. She nearly ran to catch up with the rest of the troop. Judging from the flare of Carrie’s nostrils, she noticed too. Before Julie could pay attention to any more of Anne’s sabotaging antics, she heard the  _ vwoop _ of three ghosts teleporting beside her.

“ _ What are you guys doing here? _ ” Julie hissed under her breath, turning slightly to look at Luke.

“We wanna see you stick it to the man!” Luke grinned widely and rocked back on his heels, dropping his hips. He brought his hands up in the signature rock gesture: middle, ring, and thumb finger curled in, pointer and pinky straight up. “Isn’t that right boys?” He turns, but Alex and Reggie are watching the dance.

“Man, I miss high school,” Reggie said, almost wistfully.

Anne was still messing with Red, who was  _ definitely _ going to get yelled at after the performance. Anne waved at them when she saw them looking. Alex mimicked one of the dance moves and knocked into Luke. Luke made a ‘cut it out!’ gesture at Alex. Julie’s head started to fill with static while the performance came to a close and Principal Lessa gave closing remarks.

“Now’s your chance!” Flynn nudged Julie. “Go talk to her! I’ll see you in music class!” Flynn squeezes her hand, and then she walks away to take a place on the bleachers.

As soon as Flynn’s touch was gone, the buzzing returned. Julie felt ready to vomit, faint, or both, in that order. 

“What’re you waiting for? This is your time!” Reggie asked, pointing with his thumb towards the stage.

“Yeah, you look really nervous,” Alex observed.  _ Gee, thanks, Alex _ . “Like, yack in a bowl nervous.”

“Julie,” Rashida said, catching her attention, “ _ breathe _ . In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.” Julie followed her instructions, already feeling more settled.

Julie looked around for anyone who might be listening. Finding no one, she admitted, “I just don’t think I had enough time to work on the song,”  _ God, my voice sounds rough _ .

“I wouldn’t have given you the song if I didn’t think you were gonna rock it!” Luke reassured her, “Now, there’s a piano on that stage with your name on it.” Technically, it’s a keyboard, but Julie didn’t feel like correcting him.

Another deep breath, a hair adjustment from Caoimhe, and Julie jogged to the stage entrance. People started to leave as she got on stage. She sat down on the bench and turned on the keyboard anyway. Only three living people needed to hear; Flynn, Ms. Harrison, and Principal Lessa, hopefully. 

Julie pressed her fingers to the first chord, then, she switched the keyboard to a different mode, one that sounded more like a church organ. She looked over to where her ghosts were standing.

“You got this!”

“ _ Rach _ , Julie!”

“Yeah, that’s our girl!”

Julie clenched and unclenched her hand, and began to play again, looking at her ghosts all the while. The notes reminded her of a church, the organ-like quality releasing more tension from her shoulders. As she began to sing, light shone down onto her, illuminating her presence.

“ _ Sometimes I think, I’m falling down, I wanna cry, I’m calling out, _ ” People were looking at her, telling their friends. She kept singing. “ _ For one more try, to feel ali-ive. And when I feel, lost and alone, I know that I, can make it home, fight through the da-ark, and find the spa-ark _ ,” She hit the pre-chorus and something began to build in her chest. “ _ Life is a risk but I will take it, close my eyes and jump, together I think that we can make it, come on, let’s run! _ ” The pressure built and built until it snapped with a guitar chord, and three familiar ghosts appeared onstage, instruments in hand. For a split second, faint lines shimmered between them, glowing purple and gold. 

“ _ And rise, though the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright forever, _ ” Julie got up from behind the keyboard to acknowledge them and continued singing. She then noticed the people crowded in front of the stage, pointing at where Luke was standing next to Alex’s drum set. The boys seemed just as confused as she was.

“Is this really happening right now?” She asked, out of the microphone’s range.

“Just go with it!” came Luke’s reply. Then he launched into his solo, and Julie went to jam out with Reggie, exchanging grins with him.

“ _ In times that I, doubted myself, _ ” students cheered as Luke began. “ _ I felt like I, needed some help, stuck in my head, with nothing le-e-ft! I feel something, around me now, _ ” Ooh, that growl was  _ nice _ . “ _ So unclear, liftin’ me o-out, I found the grou-ound, I’m marchin’ o-on _ .” Julie turned back from Alex as Reggie hopped across the stage to harmonize with Luke. 

“ _ Life is a risk, but we will take it, close our eyes and jump, _ ” Their voices blended well, Julie thought idly. “ _ Together, I think that we can make it, c’mon let’s run! _ ”

And Julie was back for the chorus. “ _ And rise, though the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright foreve-er. _ ” Luke throws a little guitar scale onto the second pass, “ _ And rise, though the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright foreve-er. _ ” They go up high, just like they practiced. Then it falls silent, as the piano kicks in. Reggie is playing the keyboard, bass slung over one shoulder.

Luke starts another solo, “ _ In times that I doubted myself, _ ” Julie, feeling confident, walked over and he switched to singing into her microphone. “ _ I felt like I, needed some help _ ,” Julie found herself mouthing along to the lyrics as she looked into his deep brown eyes. “ _ Stuck in my head, with nothing left, _ ” He jerked his head, motioning for her to finish off his solo.

“ _ And when I feel, lost and alone, I know that I, can make it home, _ ” Julie got an idea. She smirked, and as she began the next lyrics, she  _ passed through _ Luke. “ _ Fight through the dark, and find the spark! _ ” She drew out  _ spark _ as the boys began their last chorus and students cheered and gasped in disbelief. She finished up the song as Luke's show buzz’ combined with her own, his admiration leaving her hair standing on end. They hit the last note together, a four-part harmony that left her breathless. Julie soaked in the applause, grinning at Flynn, at Ms. Harrison, at Principal Lessa. She stretched her arms out, the boys followed her cue, and the four bowed. As she came up, a  _ vwoop _ sounded, and Luke, Alex, and Reggie disappeared from view. A collective gasp from her audience, and then silence. Julie grinned nervously as chatter started up.

“Wait, were those holograms?” Kayla, Carrie’s right-hand woman, asked.

_ Thank you for the believable lie, Kayla.  _ Julie latched on to the lie. “Yes! Yes they were holograms! I plugged it into the ceiling projector before the show.” Julie explained, albeit rather awkwardly.  _ Be vague, but give some explanation _ . “I would explain it, but it involves algorithms and science stuff,” She huffs to the cheering of what looks like most of the school, including Nick.  _ Oh boy, Nick _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rach!-Go! in Gaelic  
> Anne is (somewhat) aware of the effect she has on Rashida.  
> This was probably one of my least and most favorite chapters to write, I Do Not like writing performance scenes, but still enjoyed writing this!  
> If you leave comments and kudos I'll love you forever /p  
> Hope you enjoyed!  
> P.S: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_lUknxCQu8


End file.
